Baby Steps
by kittymchale
Summary: "She turned my head into soup whenever I saw her. Baby steps..." Can Mike capture the unlikely girl? Baby steps, that's all it takes, right? Read and Review! For "Artie.Tina.Gleek"
1. Pure Magic

**second fic! i am writing this for .Gleek, who requested it, ever so nicely! i love you guys and the feedback i got from the last fic! thank you so much! i usually update every night, so keep a look out!**

**disclaimer: I do not own glee. hahaha:)**

Chapter 1: Pure Magic

Rachel ran her hands down her pleated, plaid skirt, straightening it carefully. Her knee high, matching green, plaid socks were perfectly straight, ready to perform. She tapped her black ballet flat impatiently. A song was hidden behind her lips, just bursting to come out. Rachel's thin fingers twisted through her glossy hair out of habit. Squirming in the plastic chair under her, Rachel's arm shot straight into the air. Mr. Schuester paused and looked at her.

"Hold on, Rachel, I'm almost done," He told her, interrupting his discussion about Regionals songs. I leaned further back into my chair, crossing my arms. I couldn't help but stare at her. Rachel was so brilliant, but her beauty was usually looked past once she started to talk. I didn't mind. Rachel was controlling, no doubt about it, but I couldn't help my feelings for her. Zoning, I thought about how a relationship with her would be. I imagined the cheesy things, late night phone conversations, walking side by side, hand in hand, singing perfect duets with her, amazing every time...

"Mike!" Mr. Schuester repeated himself, addressing me. I crashed back down to reality, embarrased. I could feel my cheeks burning.

"What?" I asked, wondering what he had asked me. Matt stifled a laugh behind me. I punched his leg. Matt was the only one who knew about my secret admiration for the perfect girl that sat a few chairs away from me. Rubbing his leg, Matt groaned. Rachel looked over at me, annoyed that I was postponing her performance, even if it was for only a few seconds.

"The song? How do you feel about it for Regionals?" Mr. Schuester repeated, referring to "Lean On Me," the song we sang for Quinn and Finn when she got pregnant. It was the first practice after Sectionals, I don't know why we were already talking about Regionals. Quinn sat her chair now, her hand resting on her potruding stomach. She sat straight up, her feet folded on the seat. We knew it was Puck's baby from day one. Puck couldn't keep his angst from us for long.

"Yeah, sure, sure," I said, indifferently. Mr. Schuester changed his mind every week of what he wanted for Regionals, so it didn't really matter what I thought about it. Mr. Schuester nodded and turned to Rachel.

"Okay, you can go now, Rachel," He said, getting up from the bright, orange chair he was sitting in backwards. Rachel stood up quickly, stepping in front of us all. She stood perfectly straight with her hands folded together.

"As you all know, I have the strongest vocals and stage presence out of everyone here," She started, speaking quick and light. Mercedes scoffed and crossed her arms. Ignoring the outburst, Rachel went on, "So, I think we should use my talent as an advantage to us," She kept speaking, using her hands to exaggerate her point, "I have a song prepared that maybe we could use later on," She finished, re-folding her hands together. Kurt rolled his eyes. Mr. Schuester waved a hand toward the piano. Rachel nodded and flitted toward it. Brad, the piano player, started playing a floating melody, carressing my ears. It was slow and magical, wrapping it's arms around all of us. I was pulled into it's lullaby. Rachel drew in a breath, building tension. The first words left her lips, igniting my soul. The room was warm and comfortable. My mouth probably hung open like a gaping idiot, but I didn't care. The words were so delicate and lovely.

_Could we fix you if you broke?_

_ Is your punchline just a joke?_

_ I'll never talk again, oh boy,_

_ You've left me speechless._

_ You've left me speechless, so speechless._

That's how I felt. Speechless. My thoughts were a jumbled mess. The letters bounced around my brain, not able to form any words. All worries flew out of my grasp, never to be thought about again. The last few words escaped her, frozen in her stance. The words came back to me, slowly but surely. Matt nudged my back with the toe of his sneaker. A few weak claps radiated from the audience, while Rachel applauded wildly for herself. I couldn't help but smile. She was the most adorable thing I have ever seen. I didn't care what anyone thought.

It's really weird how it all happened, the whole "liking Rachel thing". It started around the time I joined glee club. When I first joined, I thought glee club was a huge joke. I felt like a wannabe star. We sang all of these songs that had deep meaning, but never performed them. It felt like "counseling club". If I wanted counseling, I would have went to see Ms. Pillsbury instead of taking all this time to find songs that expressed how I feel. I was going to quit at first, but I started to enjoy it. I am a shy guy and singing really helped to get all of that emotion out. I didn't really get involved much until people started to call me "Other Asian". That's when I knew that I needed to break out of the tiny shell I lived in. Feeling trapped, I started to watch the other kids in glee, trying to figure out what they did to be noticed. Rachel seemed to be the most expressive of all of the glee kids, so I watched her carefully. At first, I thought that was a terrible idea. Rachel seemed like a terrible, obnoxious, controlling person. But, for the first time, I really listened to her sing. All of her notes were dramatic and bold, shoving their way into your ears, even if you didn't want to let them in. The melodies were perfect, swirling around you and making you feel...loved. I melted. That sounds terribly cliché. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all that "love at first sight" crap. I don't believe in that. She just lit a spark in me and who am I to not let it glow?

I don't think I have ever talked to Rachel other than the time I accidently knocked her over when I was getting too into my mad dance skills.

"I-I-I'm sorry," I remember stuttering to her as she brushed herself off. All she did was give me an angry look. Artie sat in the corner shoving a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh. Tina giggled along with him. She leaned over, whispering to him, and they cracked up again.

First things first, I needed to talk to her. I wasn't quite sure if I could assemble sentences properly. Rachel just turned my head into soup whenever I looked at her. Baby steps. Rachel was single, but I had to act fast to capture her before Finn could. That sounded really bad, but it was truth.

Glee club practice ended, leaving me idle in my chair. Everyone filed out of the room, stuffy in the middle of the winter. As I picked up my stuff, I listened to Rachel badger to Mr. Schuester about how she needed more solos. What? Didn't she get all the solos (not that I minded)? Shifting the heavy textbooks into my arms, Rachel walked to pick up her pink bag, making a noise that sounded like,"hurmmph". My hands shook and felt clammy as I clenched them together. I let out a quivering breath. It felt hot on my cold lips.

"Uhh, w-what's the, um, matter, Rachel?" I stammered, grasping my books, white-knuckled. Rachel turned and cocked her head to the side. She looked thoroughly confused.

"I don't think I have ever heard 2 words from you that weren't "I'm" and "sorry"," Rachel said, remembering the time I knocked her to the ground. My face blushed furiously. She continued, "But, I am just a little bit angry that I am not getting all of the solos I deserve, that's all." I breathed a trembling laugh.

"I-I know, I haven't had a s-solo...ever," I told her, still sputtering. Rachel let out a breath and smiled a sweet smile. Ugh, that smile.

"At least I have some. I don't think I have ever heard you sing before," She said, slinging her bag onto her shoulder, "I hope that's a crowned jewel just waiting to be uncovered." Rachel grabbed the rest of her things and started to walk out the door. She waved a hand at me.

"See you later, Mike," She mentioned, her shining smile leaving me dumbfounded. Brain soup. I was just waiting for it to come dribbling down my ears onto my shirt. That was the most nerve-wracking thing I had ever done. Considering to be a success, I smiled brightly to myself.

Score one for Mike.


	2. Car Rides

**thank you for alllll the kind reviews, words, etc.! i love each and every one of you! sorry if this chapter is too...fluffy. it's all just what came to mind :) **

Chapter 2: Car Rides

I strolled along to the vacant parking lot. My beat up, red truck called me to it. Rust decorated the edges of the bed. I grabbed on to the cold, metal handle of the door, chilled from the frosty weather. Chipped paint fell into the snow when the door finally creaked open. I shoved the keys into ignition, attempting to start the old truck. It squealed in protest.

"Come on, you can do it," I coaxed, rubbing the dashboard. The truck finally came around, rumbling under me. I leaned back in the ugly seat, waiting for the heat to warm up my poor truck. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

_Incoming call: Matt_

I flipped open my cell phone.

"What?" I answered. Matt scoffed on the other end.

"So, I don't even get a hello? I thought you loved me!" Matt replied, giggling uncontrollably.

"What do you want?" I asked again, annoyed.

"Well, then," Giggles said again. I growled. Matt continued, "Can you give me a ride?"

"Fine. I'm out in the lower parking lot. If you aren't here in two minutes, I'm leaving without you," I told him. Matt quickly said an, "Okay", and hung up the phone. I shivered as the cold weather bit me. I could not wait for winter to end. I hated the snow. A sloshy sound appeared behind me. Matt sprinted through the snow, his feet dripping with slush. He ripped open the door and flopped down into the seat.

"Thanks, dude," Matt panted, slamming the door.

"Be easy on the doors, would you?" I asked Matt, turning toward him. He laughed sarcastically.

"Be gentle on this piece of junk? What difference would it make?" He asked, shaking with laughter.

"Why don't you have your nice car with you?" I inquired, referring to Matt's brand new Kia Forte. Matt gave me a ride in it once to show off, succeeding in making me jealous. He got it for his 17th birthday.

"My mom borrowed it," He told me, shifting his backpack on to the floor. Matt smiled to himself, shaking his head.

"What?" I asked him, squirming in my seat. I hated when Matt did that. I always knew something was up.

"Nothing, just laughing at your dorkiness when Rachel sang "Speechless". You looked like you had never seen a girl in your life. I don't know how you can stand her, dude. She makes me want to cut my face off and feed it to a litter of rabid kittens," He replied, shaking his head again. I scoffed.

"You don't get it, man. There's no way to describe it to you, it's like magic or something," I tried to make sense of my feelings, just sounding like a sappy jerk. Matt broke out in laughter again.

"You _are_ talking about _RACHEL BERRY_, right?" He laughed, mocking me. I punched his arm. Matt stopped laughing and rubbed his arm. He pretended to cry, "OWWWW! MIKE HIT ME!"

"Shut up, dude. It's not funny," I replied through my teeth. Matt was my best friend, but sometimes he could be the biggest pain. He was pretty cool about Rachel, though, when he wasn't picking on me.

"Have you even talked to her? Ever?" He asked, still giggling, "I mean talked, talked. Not saying that you are sorry for almost breaking her foot." I remembered back just a few minutes ago to Rachel's sweet smile.

"As a matter of fact, yes," I said, smiling. Matt's eyes popped out of his head. I continued, "I talked to her after glee club today." Matt clapped his hands jokingly.

"Wow. I am impressed," Matt said, being serious. He paused and looked at me, "Well?" I began to drive slowly out of the snowy lot. I told Matt about what happened. He was no longer impressed.

"That's it?" He asked when I finished.

"Uhh...yeah," I said, wishing I had come up with a lie or something. I stared ahead at the icy road. Matt scoffed.

"I thought you _actually_ talked to her. Look, dude. Rachel is not the type of girl that is just going to wait around for you. She has better things to do. Now, man up, or she is going to forget all about that small, little encounter. Hell, she is going to forget you even exist. You need to do something, man," Matt said, angrily. He slammed back in the seat and crossed his arms. He was right. Rachel _wasn't _going to wait around for me. She had big dreams, too big for me...bigger than me. I gritted my teeth and drove toward Matt's house in silence.

"You're right," I said, minutes later. We were nearly to Matt's house and the silence was getting uncomfortable. Matt turned to me.

"I know it's hard to hear, but it's the truth," Matt replied as I pulled into his driveway. My truck wheezed and puffed at the incline.

"I know, see you later, dude," I called as Matt stepped out of the cab. He waved and made his way into the house. I groaned and ran my tired fingers through my hair. I sighed and started to head home. I fumbled for the radio, attempting to recieve any type of noise but "phhoooowwwiisshhshhshs". Frustrated, I slammed my hand on the buttons, flipping the radio back off. One of the buttons broke off and rolled on the floor. I sat silently in the cab, ignoring the radio like we were in a fight.

Pulling into my driveway, I turned off the rusty truck and grasped my things. I got out of the truck and started to walk toward my house. I lost my balance, my arms flying into the air and dumping my things all into the snow. Putting my arms behind me, I landed hard, falling on my back. I lay there frozen for a while, my wrist in burning pain. On top of being cold and hurt, all of my papers were wet from the snow. I tried to get up with my right hand, but a pain shot up my arm. Wincing in pain, I rolled over and picked my things up with my left hand, my right one lying there like a dead thing. I walked inside, feeling dizzy from the pain. My arm throbbed. Once inside, I threw my books on the couch and got some ice. I dug my phone out of my pocket to get some help for this arm. My mom and dad were both at work until about 10:00. The only people I could call were Finn or Puck. Matt didn't have a ride and Mercedes, Kurt, Tina and I weren't the best of friends after tormenting them with the football team. My fingers flew furiously over the buttons, dialing Finn's number.

"Hello?" Finn picked up, smashing sounds behind him.

"Hey, Finn," I said, groggily. Finn sounded rushed.

"Oh, hey, Mike. Look, I can't talk right now, I have baseball practice, bye, dude," Finn said quickly.

"Wait, Finn-" I started, but was cut off by the "disconnected" beeping sound. Puck was there, too. I forgot all about baseball. Taking a shaky breath, I flipped open my phone again. I went through the contacts list carefully, finding who I needed to call. Pressing the "talk" button gently, I raised the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" A voice immediatley picked up. I gasped.

"Rachel? It's Mike. I kind of have an emergency," I told her, not stuttering this time. That was a plus.

"Oh, hi, Mike. What is the matter?" Rachel asked, concerned. I wiggled my wrist, gasping from pain.

"I think I might have broke my wrist and no one is home. I called around, no one is free. Can you come get me?" I spoke, just a bit too fast. Rachel drew in a sharp breath. I heard paper rustling in the background.

"Oh, yes, o-of course. What's your address?" Rachel asked me. I told her all the details of my address and how to get there. Pen noises scribbled from the phone.

"I'll be right there. Maybe we can sing on the way there, maybe you are a canidate for a new male lead," Rachel said. I could hear her smile over the phone.

"Y-yeah," I replied. The stutter's back. A fresh pot of brain soup.

"Okay, bye," Rachel said, hanging up. I stood there with the phone to my ear about a minute afterward like an idiot.

What did I just do?

**more tomorrow...hopefully! :)**


	3. Squeamish

**sorry, guys, but i don't think i can post tomorrow, so I tried to make this chapter extraaa long :)**

Chapter 3: Squeamish

Breaking out of the daze I was stuck in, I smashed the phone closed and set it carefully on the marble counter. I ran upstairs to my mom's room to get inside the file cabinet. I rummaged through the various files, looking for the spare insurance card, which I was pretty sure I needed. As I dug, a small, faded picture fell on the ground. It was a little me, about 7 years old, sitting on a mall Santa's lap. On the other knee sat a little Finn. Mine and Finn's moms had book club or sewing club or something together when Finn and I were little. I don't exactly know the club, Finn and I never payed attention to that. We would go outside and play crazy games, carefree. I remember one day when Finn's mom was over at my house, Finn and I were outside, horsing around with my dog, Meeko. I used to be obsessed with _Pocahontas_ when we got Meeko, our Kintamani. No one ever knew why I liked _Pocahontas_ so much. I danced to all the songs and sung them, too. Granted, I was about 5, but that's the movie that got me into song and dance. Anyway, as Finn threw a worn out, chewed tennis ball at Meeko, he tripped on his throw and hit his head on the ground. He started to cry and sat up, his knees bent, hands resting on his knees and put his head in his dirty hands. Being a confused 7 year old, I ran over to him and squished myself next to him. I put my tiny hand on Finn's back, his raspy cry filling my ears. Thinking it would help, I sang a few lines to him.

_ You think you own whatever land you land on_

_ The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim_

_ But I know every rock and tree and creature_

_ Has a life, has a spirit, has a name!_

I stumbled on the words, but Finn looked over at me, sniffling. He rubbed his nose with his filthy hand.

"That's pretty, Mikey," Finn told me, slightly lisping on the 'th'. Finn always called me 'Mikey' and occasionally, he still does. He added, "Can you teach me?"

After that, every time our moms met, Finn and I practiced _Pocahontas_ songs, which was all I knew. Finn probably remembers all the words to those songs. I still do.

Shaking myself from the memory, I quietly sang "The Colors of The Wind" to myself, finding my insurance card. Along with that, I shoved the picture into my pocket. My lifeless wrist hung to my side. It felt like it was going to fall off at any moment. Throbbing and swollen, I made my way back down the carpeted stairs. Meeko lay on the couch, raising his head at me. Meeko was old now, about 11 years. White spots dotted his grey fur. My mom hated when Meeko slept on the couch, but he was so old, I didn't want to disturb him. A light knocking came from the front door. Rachel. My palms turned clammy. I balled my good hand into a tight fist. My breath shook as I stepped carefully toward the door. Rachel rapped an impacient hand on the wood again. I rushed to the source, swinging the door open.

"H-hi," I said, stumbling again. Rachel gasped, staring at my swollen limb. She grabbed my healthy wrist and pulled me out the door. Her touch eletrocuted me. My skin prickled where she grabbed.

"Mike, we need to get you to the hospital!" She panicked, dragging me behind her through the grass. Breathing heavy, Rachel opened the door of her powder blue Prius and guided me inside. She rushed to the driver's side.

"Rachel, calm down! I hurt my wrist, I'm not having a heart attack," I informed her, her eyes anxious. Rachel drew in a deep breath. She straightened her skirt gingerly.

"Sorry, it just looks pretty bad," She replied, trying to calm down a little bit. She backed out of my driveway, heading toward the hospital. Rachel's eyes narrowed on the road. I was thoroughly flattered. In all seriousness, I was suprised she even cared. Rachel bit her lip uncomfortably.

"Thanks for driving me," I said. I could feel my whole body blushing furiously. Shifting her hands on the steering wheel, Rachel smiled brightly at me. That smile is more gorgeous than any art and more priceless than the Moon.

"No problem. I feel obligated to help a friend in need," She replied. I gritted my teeth on the word "friend". I could swear she heard it. I turned to the road, staring blankly. Remembering the picture in my pocket, I started to hum "The Colors of The Wind". Dammit. I was never going to get that song out of my head now. Rachel cocked her head to the side and looked at me curiously. Embarrased, my humming ceased.

"The Colors of the Wind," Rachel started, "Keep going...sing it." All of my breath bunched up in my windpipe.

"A-are you sure?" I choked, blushing again. I wiped my sweaty palm on my jeans. Rachel nodded rapidly.

"Of course, there's nothing to worry about," She said, half smiling. I swallowed and drew in a breath. Clearing my throat, I started singing, slow and deep.

_ You think I'm an ignorant savage_

_ And you've been so many places_

_ I guess it must be so..._

Rachel gasped as I sang, the melodies making her smile. Her air was choked off and her face turned a rosy pink. As we reached the hospital parking lot, she joined me, wrapping me in her beautiful notes. Our harmonies danced, producing a sound I would never have expected.

_Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon_

_ asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?_

_ Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?_

_ Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?_

_ Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?_

The song ended, leaving the most awkward silence behind. Rachel squirmed in the seat. I cleared my throat.

"That was great...with a little bit of practice, you could be in line for being the male lead," Rachel spoke, choosing her words carefully. She bit her lip and escaped the car. I got out, too, ignoring the throbbing pain in my wrist. It ballooned to twice it's size. Rachel winced from the sight.

"I know," I replied, referring to the twisted look she gave it. She breathed a faint laugh.

"Let's get you in there," She replied, sincerely. I nodded and we headed into the emergency room.

It turns out, Rachel gets a bit squeamish around hospitals. She sat in the waiting room, frozen to the chair, until I came out of the emergency room. It was a small single fracture in my arm. The doctors wrapped it up for me and put it in a sling, but I had to come back in a few days. Once I entered the waiting room to get Rachel, she high-tailed it out of the hospital. We walked into the parking lot through the slushy snow to her car in silence. Once we were seated, I broke the silence.

"What happened that you hate hospitals so much?" I asked her, my eyebrows furrowing together. Rachel squirmed uncomfortably. I added, "I mean, if you don't want to tell me, I understand."

"N-no, it's okay," She stammered, "I want to tell you." I shifted my body toward her, all ears.

"Um, when I was young, about 8 years old, One of my dad's lung collapsed and it was pretty severe. We were in the hospital for days...I can remember being so scared, wondering what was happening to my daddy..." Rachel told me, her eyes welling up with tears, "He was unconscious for a while. I used to hold his hand every day and talk to him like he was awake. My other dad cried the whole time. I can remember me looking up at him telling him that 'Daddy is just taking a nap'." Rachel started to sob right in front of me. I gasped, shocked and hurt. She threw her arms around me, causing my body to charge itself into hyper mode. My whole body tingled. I lifted my arms awkwardly, wrapping them around her shoulders, which were shaking with her cries. Rachel sniffled a bit and pulled away from me.

"He's okay now, but it really hurts to remember. The doctors thought he was dead for sure," She told me, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, "Thanks for listening."

"Anytime," I choked out, still frozen in shock. Rachel flipped on the radio and started to drive me toward home. She sang along with the songs, quiet, but meaningful. Eventually, we reached back to my house. Rachel bit her lip. She turned to me.

"Thanks," She told me. I looked back at her, confused, "For watching and listening. If I was with anyone else, they wouldn't have even noticed I don't like hospitals. You are really nice, Mike." My eyes popped out of my head at her words.

"Really, it's no problem. Thanks for singing with me," I replied. She bit down harder on her glossy lip, like she was thinking hard.

"Wha-" I started, but was cut off. Rachel flung herself at me, grabbing on my neck. Her lips touched to mine, moving in unison. I sat paralyzed in surprise. At that moment, the Earth, the Moon, the Sun, they were all gone. My life was a blank sheet of paper, no worries at all. We were floating in the air, nothing tying us down. Gravity turned itself off, making us bound for the sky. She slowly pulled away, life turning itself back on.

"I-...I-I'm so so so sorry," Rachel apologized, facing away from me. I rested my hand on her shoulder longingly.

"It's okay, really," I replied truthfully. Rachel became a flurry of words.

"No, it's not! That was so wrong, I just ruined everything..." Rachel continued, coming up with more terrible things about it.

"Rachel, stop," I told her sternly, grabbing on both of her thin shoulders. She avoided my eyes, "It's really okay, trust me." Rachel still looked at the floor, turning deep red.

"I-I'm so embarrased," She said quietly. I rolled my eyes at her. She had no idea. Rachel smoothed her skirt compulsivley.

"Don't be. Look, maybe we can sing together sometime. I have to go, my mom's probably freaking out inside," I told her, referring to the car out front of my house. Rachel nodded and let out a held in breath.

"That'd be nice," Rachel told me, looking up, "I'm sorry to be so sudden, I just have never been treated so nicely. I'm glad I could help your 'boo-boo'." Rachel gently took my bad hand and kissed it. Rachel's fingers were soft against my rough hands. Her chiming giggle followed. I smiled at her, recieving one in return. Getting out, I waved to her, heading indoors. She kindly smiled back and pulled out. I sighed. What just happened to me? I breathed a suprised laugh. I walked in a daze, mostly because my brain spilled all over her car seat. I walked inside, my mom attacking me with a hug.

"Mom, what are you doing home so early?" I asked her, her black hair sprawled all over my face.

"Your friend, Rachel called me. She said you were in the hospital for a hurt wrist, but she would get you home okay, thank God you are," My mom jabbered, being overdramatic. My stomach fluttered at Rachel's name.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just need to go back to get a cast in a few days," I told her as she pulled away from me. She patted my head lovingly.

"I made some stir-fry," My mom said, leaving the room. My mom felt like she needed to embrace our Asian roots...every. single. night. I was kind of getting tired of the same food. I ran my fingers through my hair and walked into the kitchen. Stir-fry sat in a square bowl, chopsticks resting next to it. I groaned and took a fork out of the dish-strainer. I bounded up to my room with the hot bowl, trying not to spill it. Setting the food down on my bed, I dug around in the cabinet full of movies for something to watch. One movie caught my eye. _Pocahontas_. Smiling like an idiot, I put the movie in and sang along, just like I used to.

_Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?_

**1st of all, I have no idea why Pocahontas came to mind. 2nd of all a Kintamani is a real doggg! they kind of look like a samoyed and a malamute mix? look it up...they are so hard to describe! new chapter on saturday!**


	4. Something Bad

**i am so sorry for the delays, i had so much to do! thanks for being understanding :)**

Chapter 4: Something Bad

I woke up the next morning to my blaring alarm clock with the cold bowl of half-eaten stir-fry resting on my stomach. Moving the bowl, I sat up in my bed. I was still dressed, my bed was still made and _Pocahontas_ was still playing on replay. Meeko was sleeping on the end of my bed, snoring loudly. Stretching my tired arms, I decided to get up and get dressed. Meeko yawned in protest. Patting his head, I became a whirlwind of productivity, getting ready for school and finishing homework from last night.

"MICHEAL!" My dad's deep, bellowing voice called from downstairs. What did I do now? I dropped all of the books I was holding on my bed and sprinted down the steps.

"What's the matter?" I asked quietly, trying not to piss him off even more. His dark brown eyes narrowed and softened when he spotted my wrist. Crossing his arms, he shook his head.

"What did you do now?" My dad asked me, low and gentle. I raised my sore arm up, held back by the sling, like it was going to tell me how to answer the question.

"Broke it," I replied simply. He rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms.

"You need to be more careful when you play football. That school is just a danger zone, let me tell you," My dad grumbled. My face felt hot with embarrassment, remembering how I slipped on the icy patch outside of the house. I nodded and started to creep back up the stairs.

"Wait," He stopped me, remembering what he had to say in the first place, "I have to work late tonight, so you are going to have to make your own dinner." Bummer. My mom was going to be at work late, too. I hate trying to make my own food. I always burn it. I remember once I tried to make macaroni and cheese, burning up a few of my mom's favorite dish towels.

"Is that it?" I asked him, confused. My dad nodded and grabbed his keys. Mumbling to himself in Chinese, he left the house. I knew a few words in Chinese, but not enough to speak in full sentences. My grandfather was from China, so was his wife. He never learned English, so I just learned a few words to try to communicate. Failed attempt, I might add. Deciding to stick to his strong Chinese roots, he named my dad, "Ruo-jian", which supposedly means "sharp as a sword". My mom's dad was very Chinese as well, so it was kind of weird how it worked out. He named my mom, "Ai", meaning "love". What I really don't understand is how I ended up being named "Mike". How boring.

Throwing everything in my trusty old backpack, I dashed out the door. Heading toward school in my same old truck, my mind wandered back to the impromptu make-out session with Rachel in her car last night. It was a little strange, Rachel acting that way. Rachel was outspoken on many occasions, but she had a lot of self respect, which made the whole situation strange. My heart thundered in my chest as I finally pulled up into the crowded parking lot. My car huffed, coming to a stop. Puck had Finn in a headlock across the parking lot. Matt was beside them, hopping up and down in excitement. I breathed a laugh to myself and got out of the truck, being careful not to fall again. Matt spotted me and dashed over.

"What did you do now, dude," He asked glancing at the ugly fabric that caressed my broken arm. Repeating what happened this morning with my dad, I raised my arm a bit.

"Broke it," I replied. Matt stifled a laugh with his hand. I looked at him, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

"Slipped on an icy patch?" He asked, shaking with giggles. I hit his shoulder with my good arm.

"How'd you know?" I inquired, amazed. No one knew but Rachel.

Rachel. My head swam just repeating her name in my head.

"Rachel hasn't shut up about you since she got to school," Matt told me. What was he talking about? Puck snorted and let go of Finn's head. Finn nodded.

"Yeah, dude, he's not lying," Finn replied, laughing along with Matt. Puck smirked with them, too cool to laugh. I grabbed on to Matt's shoulder.

"Are you joking right now, man?" I asked as seriously as I could. Matt stopped laughing and looked at me sternly.

"Mike, I am being completley serious. Look," Matt said, waving his arm over to the right side of the parking lot. Rachel was gabbing to a group of girls using dramatic hand movements. She pointed to her right arm and used her other arm to hold it up, imitating a sling. The breath choked up in my throat. A surge of anxiety pulsed through me. I let go of Matt's shoulder, gazing over to her. Finn, Puck and Matt were all giggling like school girls behind me. My free palm suddenly frozen, I walked cautiously toward Rachel. Her eyes lit up like a blazing sun and she jogged over to me. Setting her soft, cold fingers on my broken hand, her eyes softened.

"How're you feeling?" She asked, looking up at me nervously. I never noticed how small and delicate Rachel was. I always looked at her like she was so intimidating, but she really wasn't. Rubbing her thumb around on my hand, she looked at it like it was some foreign thing.

"I'm fine, what about you?" I asked her, flexing my fingers nervously. Looking up at me longingly, she opened her mouth to speak. Puck, Matt and Finn bounded past us, making immature kissy noises. Matt grabbed my hand jokingly and pretended to kiss it. I slapped my hand away and kicked him playfully. Rachel shook her head, loose strands of hair swirling around her face. She looked back up at me, hair still hanging in her face. I used my free hand to move it gently out of the way, tucking it behind her ear. The hair fell back down immediatley, but I figured it would be a nice gesture.

"I'm excellent, actually. I just have to ask you a question," Rachel said, twisting her lips to the side uncomfortably.

"Anything," I replied. Looking back, that was the cheesiest thing I could have said at that time.

"I-It's just that...if we are going to be an item, I need a man who can keep up with me, not be intimidated by my huge goals and dreams. I need a man who is capable of being by my side, not in my way, musically, emotionally and physically," Rachel stammered, gripping tighter on my fingers. An item? My mind went completely blank, my whole vocabulary rushed out of me. I stood there, my mouth hanging open, staring down at the beautiful girl in front of me. I stammered like an idiot and nodded my head stupidly.

Digging for words in my blank slate brain, I came up with an "O-ok-kay." Rachel flashed a priceless smile at me, her sparkling teeth bright enough to blind someone. She reached up a small hand to touch my face, not really helping the blank-slate syndrome.

"Great. We should start working on a duet immediatley to express our feelings for eachother," Rachel started to gush. Leaving a gentle kiss on my hand and one on my cheek, Rachel skipped back to her car to get her stuff. It took me a few seconds to regain my senses. What just happened to me?

I walked into the crowded school in a daze, still trying to get my words to come back. Matt ran over to me, making kissy faces.

"What was that all about, man?" He asked after I rolled my eyes at him. I stammered out a few words.

"Rachel and I are dating now," I choked out, surprised by my words over again. Matt's eyes flew open wider than I've ever seen.

"What?" He asked, taken aback. He patted me on the back, "Nice work, dude."

"Thanks," I replied as Matt bounded away. Gasping, I felt Rachel's silky fingers intertwined in my good hand. I gave her the least ridiculous smile I create, getting one in return. Her thumb drew small circles on the back of my hand, just like she did with my good hand. Why did she do that?

"I thought maybe you could come over after school so we could work on a few things," Rachel suggested, still rubbing silent circles. I nodded at her, leaning down to kiss her. This kiss was far more magical than the first, shooting me back up into space. I could hear Rachel's soft giggle when we pulled away.

"See you at lunch?" Rachel asked, happily. I nodded and we both drifted apart toward class.

I didn't pay attention in my classes, too excited and surprised to do a thing. I broke out of my daze for a few seconds when a distant "thump" shut up the entire class. Moving on like nothing happened was a huge mistake.

The click of high heels and the muffled squeak of sneakers ran toward the door.. Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester. They both ran toward me, not bothering to knock on the door.

"Mike, you need to come with us," Ms. Pillsbury called, choking back tears. The air in the room turned disgustingly stale. Panic pulsed through my veins, screaming in my ears. Mr. Schuester was frozen, not saying a word. He set a solemn hand on my shoulder. His lips were tight, bearing terrible news behind them.

Something happened. Something bad.

**dun dun dunnnnnn hahaha next chapter will be here sooooooon! **


	5. Furious

**i never knew how hard this was hahahaha :) thanks for readingggg! **

Chapter 5: Furious

Ms. Pillsbury's shaking fingers intertwined with Mr. Schuester's, both of them trembling uncontrollably. A few quiet tears dripped down Mr. Schuester's face. Panic surged through me again. I felt like a little kid, scared and confused. I wanted my family, Meeko, Rachel, Matt...anybody, someone, something just to stay with me. My hand ached for Rachel's comforting grasp. My breath was ragged, the anxiety eating me alive. I chewed nervously on the inside of my cheek. Leading me outside, a blanketed lump was rolling toward the flashing lights of an ambulance.. The words stuck to the back of my throat. I tried to swallow them, giving myself room to breathe. A familiar shaved head poked out of the white, knitted sheath. Ms. Pillsbury crumpled into Mr. Schuester, both of them sobbing. He stroked her hair, trying to comfort her. That's the moment when it hit me. A wave of rage and distress drown me. I could feel my emotions struggling out of my control.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" I screamed, running toward the ambulance. Mr. Schue sprinted after me, grabbing on my furious arms. Smacking his hands away, I started yelling again. Hot tears burned my twisted face.

"Mike, you need to calm down," He tried to convince me everything was okay. I scoffed through my sobbing.

"Yeah, everything's just freaking fine and dandy, isn't it Mr. Schue? Everyone seems DAMN happy don't they?" I shrieked sarcastically. I turned away from him shamefully and started to run again. This time, Mr. Schuester glued his feet to the pavement, no use running after me.

"Please, what is going on?" I asked desperately, facing a paramedic. It was a short blonde woman with a piercing high voice.

"You need to get out the way, kid," She warned condescendingly. I repeated myself, more furious tears escaping me. A doctor set a hand on my shoulder for a split second before I tore myself away from it.

"Is he your friend?" The burly doctor asked me. His voice was raspy and deep. He pointed a hand toward the boy lying in the creaky stretcher. I bit my lip in outrage.

"His name is MATT!" I raged, not caring if I was disrespecting him. I lost it again, looking toward my unconscious best friend. His face was blotchy with bruises, eyes swelled shut. His face was peaceful in craziness of the situation. A brace was wrapped around his neck. A short man with brown hair was using a small, portable ventilator on him. Loud sobs and groans escaped from me.

"You need to calm down. _Matt_ is in critical condition right now. He suffered from sudden cardiac arrest, lost consciousness and took a tumble down a flight of stairs. By the looks of it, he has a slight concussion," The doctor informed me, trying to calm my nerves. The paramedics lifted Matt into the ambulance.

"Let me go," I said desperately, avoiding the tall man's eyes. He sighed a bit and nodded. I boarded the ambulance, the world around me not mattering anymore. The blonde woman peeled back the blanket, revealing a blood stained shirt. Scared and alone, I grabbed on Matt's gruff hand, no matter how girly I felt.

"Hold on, Matt. Please, hang on," I repeated, the words falling on deaf ears. My pale hand lingered there all the way to the hospital, tears pooling in my lap. Sirens blared around us as we drove. I couldn't imagine life without my best friend. He could be a complete moron sometimes, but he was always there for me. We have been best friends since we were both about 8 years old when he transferred to my school. He looked so scared so I tried to become his friend. Finn was the most jealous I'd ever seen him. Finn and I weren't friends again until middle school. Matt always stuck by my side. We used to build Lego castles together. The memories spilled out with my tears. A red-headed woman patted my shoulder, shaking me from the memories.

"Sir, you have to move," She said gently, trying to squeeze past. Reluctant, I let go of Matt's lifeless hand and stood up, moving out of the way. A crunch of gravel informed me we arrived at the hospital. I was watching through a curtain of tears, still trying to convince myself this was all a dream. My vacant hand quivered. Nothing was holding me down. Furry blurs of people swirled around me, spinning in circles. My breathing picked up as I tried to balance myself. I felt like I was in an Etch-a-Sketch, the world turning to sand...

I woke up in my flurry of rage. My head felt so light, like it could float away. The air in the hospital was stiff and dry, too clean for comfort.

"Where's Matt?" I asked, my voice raw and painful. I sounded desperate. I didn't care. I would run all the way to the other side of the world for my best friend. I started to stand up. A nurse shuffled over to me and made me sit back down.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mike, you can't be standing up yet. You passed out from anxiety. You really have to calm down," the squat nurse said, acting like I was 5 years old. I scoffed at her.

"Look, lady, I don't care if my freaking leg fell off, I need to go be with Matt," I yelled furiously. The woman shook her head.

"You can't see him anyway, he's in the ICU. Family only," she retaliated, angry with me, "Sit down." The doctor that was in the ambulance poked his head through the ugly curtain I was behind.

"Mike Chang?" He asked, flipping through a blue chart.

"No, the muffin man," I replied, bitter. He laughed stiffly.

"I'm Doctor Grace," He said, reaching out his hand for a handshake. I rejected it. Sitting down awkwardly, his face relaxed like he was going to say something he's rehearsed, "Matt's alive, but still unconscious. We have him stable for now, but that's the only good news I have for you."

"Can I please see him? I know that the ICU is family only, but we are practically brothers," I pleaded. The fat nurse shot me a look as she took the blood pressure of a scrawny man. I fiddled with the frayed ends on my sling, "Please, I promised I'd always be there for him, no matter what happened." No more words would come to me as I started crying again. I could feel Matt slipping through my fingers.

"I'm sorry, Mike, family-" He started, but cut himself off, "You know what? I can get you in, but you need to stay here for a little while. We can't have you passing out on us again." I nodded slowly. I didn't want to wait, but I would for Matt. Dr. Grace set a confirming hand on my knee and left the curtained room. Squeaky dress shoes ran toward the room soon after the doctor left.

"Mike," a breathless Rachel said, holding me close to her, "Are you okay?" Silent tears absorbed into Rachel's hair. She pulled away from me, lingering her soft hands on my shoulders. Using a gentle hand, Rachel wiped a tear away with her thin fingers. "Don't cry, Mike, it's okay."

"No, it's not," I replied, choking on my sentence. Her face crumpled in pain. Sitting down on the ugly, pink blanket, Rachel rubbed wide circles on my slumped back. She traced my spine absentmindedly. She tried to comfort me the best she could, but the 30 minutes of waiting were hell. I tapped my foot impaciently, ticking Rachel off.

"Mike? Want to come with me?" Dr. Grace said, parting the curtain sternly. Rachel kissed me on the cheek and I left her in the room with a weak wave.. I didn't notice the salty tears spilling from Rachel's eyes. I knew hospitals freaked her out and I was being so self-centered. Way to be an ass, Mike. It didn't matter anymore when I entered the ICU. Everything screamed "death". The beeping monitors, all of the tubes, scrambling doctors and nurses. I ignored my surroundings, focusing on Matt.

"Here he is," Dr. Grace said, leading me into Matt's room. He walked away uncomfortably, leaving me alone. Matt was covered in tubes, wires and suction cups. A steady rhythm surrounded us, created by the beeping machines. Matt's face was swollen, forehead wrapped in a bandage. I sucked in a breath of air, fueling my anguish. My head pounded in panic again. My trembling hand found Matt's cold fingers again.

"Matt, I know you can't hear me, but I just want you to know I am here for you and you need to keep hanging on. Remember when we were in 8th grade and Quinn broke up with me? You told me that you'd always be there for me if I was always there for you. I pinky promised, and I don't break a pinky promise," I cried to him, patting his hand with my thumb. I told him stories from when we were little, from when we met until now. I knew he would never hear a word I said, but I wanted him to know that I cared and remembered everything. I was there for hours, swearing I would never leave. Nurses came and went, fiddling with the intricate patterns of wires and tubes.

"Are you going to be here all night?" A lanky, scrawny nurse asked. I nodded, getting an agitated look in return. I decided to sleep on the chair next to Matt's bed. I felt like Matt was the only thing tying me down now and I would do anything to keep him here, no matter how little that may be. God, I felt like a girl.

That's when I remembered my family still existed. My mom was going to kill me.

"I'll be right back," I whispered stupidly. Running out of the ICU, I told Dr. Grace what I was doing and called my home phone. The stale rings heightened my nerves.

"Mike, where are you? Are you okay? What are you doing? How's your arm? Why aren't you home?" My mom interrogated, flitting from question to question.

"Mom, calm down," My voice muffled and coarse. My mom gasped.

"Why are you crying?" She asked, concerned. I lost it. I blubbered her all of the details of Matt's condition. I could hear my mom weighing the situation, sniffling. I told her I wasn't coming home, but she didn't seem to care. Snapping my phone shut after the goodbyes, I went back to Matt's room. I resumed my position, grabbing on to his hand. I dozed in an out for the next few hours. At around 5:00 in the morning, I shifted my positon.

"Wha-?" A quiet groan escaped Matt. I gasped, my head spinning.

"Matt?" I asked, shaking his hand slightly. Matt opened his eyes halfway. Blinking them closed again, he opened his mouth slightly.

"Why...holding...hand?" Matt tried to asked, a cracked, silent whisper. I half laughed a flat laugh. I let his hand fall back to where it was.

"Dude, you are in the ICU from a heart attack and you are asking about me holding your hand? Typical Matt," I told him, dumbfounded. His lips twisted to the side a bit and fell back to where they were. I leaned back in my seat, suprised. I clutched on to that bit of Matt, even if it was only for a few seconds.

"I'm not leaving," I told him, grabbing once again on to my life preserver, my best friend's life.

**do you think Mike was too girly in this chapter? sorry! if you find something wrong...please tell me! i want to fix issuesss haha**


	6. Staring

**oh, goodness. i tried to make this longer, but only ended up with about 1000 more words. new chapter hopefully tomorrow, but if not, saturday morning. hahaha i love you loyal readers :)**

Chapter 6: Staring

Matt was unconscious again, nurses fluttering around him, having staring contests with the heart monitor. It fluctuated once in a while, causing the buzzing groups of people to hyperventilate. If there was a description of the worst possible experience, this would be it. Watching my unconscious best friend, half-dead, stay in the ICU, connected to every machine under the Sun. My tear ducts were dried up, but once in a while a few heavy sobs would escape me, faced with the reality of the situation. I couldn't sleep peacefully with the weighted thoughts smashing my brain. I raised my sleepy hands to rub my face, incrusted with dried tears.

"You okay, buddy?" the redhead from the ambulance asked solemnly. I nodded back at her, lying. She handed me a banana. That's when I noticed my stomach barking at me, angry I had been neglecting it. She ruffled my hair sweetly and left the room. I nibbled quietly on the banana, acting like I would wake Matt up if I was too loud. Dr. Grace came back in and asked me about Matt's parents and why they weren't here with him.

I truly hated Matt's parents. They left for a business trip in Japan yesterday and couldn't give up any of their precious time to come visit Matt. It killed me. They could care less if Matt was dead of alive after last year. After Matt's car was bought, there was a pregnancy scare with one of the Cheerios, Bree. Matt told his parents and they pretty much disowned him. The only reason he is still living in his house is because his parents need him there for when they are at work and someone needs to babysit his little sister, Erica. Erica was in Japan with his parents now, most likely totally oblivious to the situation. Fresh tears of rage burned my weary face.

"They don't care about Matt. They could care less if he was..." I couldn't choke out the last word. The letters tangled themselves in my throat, unable to come out. Dr. Grace patted my knee again and didn't ask any further questions. He knew it was hard. I was technically Matt's family. Right when Matt told his parents about the "pregnancy", they kicked him out of his home. I remember Matt showing up on my doorstep with just a small duffel bag, looking like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. When I opened the door for him, he looked at me for a few seconds and the flood gates opened. Matt sobbed for hours, telling me everything that happened. He stayed at my house for the whole 6 months, even after Bree told him she lied. About 6 months later, Matt and I were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework. The house phone's high chirp pierced the silence, making me jump. Bounding over to the phone, I picked it up.

"Hello?" I asked, leaning on the kitchen counter.

"Tell Matt to come home. Erica's babysitter moved away and we can't find another," A gruff voice answered swiftly. A click followed by silence hung at the other end. A constricted gasp was the only sound I could make. Dumbfounded, I slowly hung up the phone.

"Matt," I started, giving him a hurt look. His eyebrows furrowed, knowing something was up. I told him exactly the words I was told to say, too surprised to say anything else. Matt's face twisted into an angry smirk.

"I just freaking love them, don't you?" Matt yelled sarcastically, scooping up his stuff from the ran up the stairs, cursing under his breath. I could feel the pain radiating from him. The family he grew up with, the people he loved despite everything just gave up on him over a lie. I just hope he knew no matter what, I would always be family to him.

The familiar rhythm of the monitors was interrupted, sending me plummeting back into reality. A tiny nurse rushed in, fiddling with the monitors. The nurse shook them, frustrated. Her lips smashed together in a tight line.

"What's going on?" I inquired, concerned. The nurse whipped her head toward me.

"Uhm," she started uncomfortably, pressing a button on a tiny pager hooked to her pale pink pants. I repeated myself louder as a few doctors and nurses filed into the room. Breathing heavy again, I started to freak out. A petite, deep-voiced nurse grabbed my wrist and led me out of Matt's confined space.

"Sir, you need to wait out here for a few minutes," She said, flattening the front of her scrubs. Flustered, the whirlwind of emotions tore me up again. I tried to grasp back on to them, hanging on with just my fingertips. My emotions fought me back and flew out of my control. The group of medical professionals flickered around the room. Their voices were slightly raised in pitch from worry. It sounded like a big wall of sound. Anxiety flattened me with a crushing force. Through the wall of doctors, I could see Matt convulsing and seizing uncontrollably. Life sucked itself out of me, taking my breath with it. I crumpled away from the sight. Sliding to the floor, I shook with rage and worry. I brought my knees up to my face, slung my broken arm over my knee along with my other hand, trying curl up in a ball. Shivering wildly, suddenly cold tears swam down my blotchy face. Loud, monstrous beeps, shrill buzzes and the creak of Matt's bed crept up behind me. When the creaks ceased, the rest of the noises followed it except for the steady tone I was used to coming from the frustrating machines. Dr. Grace walked out of Matt's room and stopped near me.

"Mike, I am not sure how to say this, but I don't know how much longer Matt will be able to carry on. His heart is in trouble and everything we do is pretty risky," Dr. Grace informed me, stealing every last word I wanted to say.

"No," I choked out, stupidly. That's all I could say, "No! NO!" I repeated, louder. I dug my fingernails into the memories of my best friend, holding on to them as tight as I could, "Please, no." I whimpered, my whole life breaking down in front of me. Dr. Grace formed his lips into a tight frown.

"I'm sorry, Mike, but, you know we are going to do the best we can to get him back on his feet, although his heart will never be the same," The doctor continued, talking with his hands. This wasn't happening to me. Matt wasn't leaving me. He was a fighter. I believed he could hold on to his life, no matter how much fighting it took. Without warning, I slipped back in to Matt's room and grabbed swiftly on to his dry, cracked hand. Dr. Grace opened his mouth to say something, but, instead left me alone. Matt's hand was the only comfort I had from this unbearable storm of heartbreak.

"Matt, please, hang on. I believe you can. You are the strongest person I know. Please, Matt, please," I said to him, lamenting. I really wasn't a religious person at all, but I needed a prayer. Hanging my head and shifting on my knees to the cold, tiled floor, I began to pray, "God, I know I really don't come to church or read the bible or any of that, but I believe Matt is a good person and needs your help. Please, help him generate the strength to stay in this beautiful world. Please let him go to prom, graduate, get married, have kids, be a little old man sitting on a porch swing, hand in hand with his aged wife, all of that. All I wish for him is life." I begged and pleaded, I just wanted him to live. I didn't care if Matt would wake up and detest me, all I wanted was for him to wake up.

"Mike, I'm sorry, but, I have to ask you to leave," the redheaded nurse asked. Her name tag said "Madylyn". Shaking weeps escaped me.

"Wh-why?" I stuttered, letting go of Matt's hand. Madylyn bit her bottom lip.

"Dr. Grace said Matt needs to be alone for a while, even if it's just for an hour or so. I'm sorry, Mike," Madylyn informed me. Reluctantly, I eventually left the small room. I panicked as soon as I stepped out of the room. I needed to be there with him. Madylyn grasped lightly on my arm and led me out of the ICU. Rachel was waiting outside.

"Dr. Grace called her," Madylyn added, sensing my abrupt confusion. Rachel sprinted toward me, clasping her arms around my stomach. She nuzzled her face into my chest, as scared and nervous as I was. Using my good hand, I stroked the back of her head. I tangled my clumsy fingers through her glossy hair.

"Mike, I'm so scared," She told me, starting to bawl. There we stood, crumpled into each other in front of a nurse. Madylyn wiped her tears away from her deep brown eyes and shuffled away from us. Rachel shivered, shaking me along with her. She cried tiny squeaky weeps, tears soaking the front of my shirt, wet and hot. Rachel stared up at me with her mascara streaked face and immediately burying her face back into my heaving chest. I think I scared her. I admit, I probably looked like I emerged from a horror movie. Her sobs sent me spiraling back out of control, just when I started to get a grasp on my emotions. Her soft, warming fingers found my clammy hand, creating the light circles again. We walked out of the stale hospital together, looking like depressed blobs.

Walking through the wet slush, we reached Rachel's sparkling car, the site of our first real interaction. I felt frozen and numb. A steel coating hid my heart from the world, from reality. The two-ton force of my thoughts flattened me, unable to think of anything else. They forced more cold, salty tears from my bloodshot eyes. My life was really kicking the crap out of me. Rachel rubbed the absent-minded circles on my hand again, sending shivers down my spine.

"Why do you do that?" I asked her curiously. I sounded like someone shoved marshmallows down my throat. Rachel looked up at me, confused. I patted her thumb with mine.

"It's just...it's just a reminder that you are there...and mine. It comforts me," Rachel said, giving me a weak smile, "I-I can stop if you want." She added, stuttering, her face alarmed.

"No, no. I like it," I let her know. I tried to twist my lips into a weak smile, probably looking like a grimace. Leaving a small kiss on my forehead, Rachel turned to drive. Rachel drove through the sloppy slush down the familiar road to my house.

"Be careful on the ice," Rachel warned, giving me a winded chuckle. It sounded strained and forced. She grasped back on my rough hand as soon as we both got out of the car.

"Promise me you will stay with me?" I asked abruptly, being completely serious. I sounded like a sad, sappy sucker, but I didn't care. I needed someone to be with me through all of this trouble. Rachel stared up at me, wide-eyed.

"Of course," Rachel replied, just as abruptly as my question. Getting a tighter grip on my hand, Rachel and I entered my house.

"Mike," my mom sighed with relief. She grabbed on to me, holding me in a bear hug. Wrapped in other arms, too, I looked up. Finn. His face was streaked with pained tears. Puck was lounging rigidly on the couch. He was trying to look tough, but I could see the pink rims around his eyes from crying. My mom let go of me, leaving Finn with his huge arms draped around me. Puck raised a sudden hand to wipe a tear from his face. When Finn let go, I walked over to Puck. He got up from the couch, pulling me into a silent hug. A deep, throaty sob broke free from Puck's "tough guy" image.

"I'm scared, dude," Puck whispered to me, shedding his steel skin.

"Me too," I whispered back, choking on the truth of my words. Patting my back, Puck pulled away from me awkwardly. Rachel was hugging my mom, both of them crying hushed weeps. The air was heavy and thick from all of the pressure. Meeko was even dragging his feet over to me with his unhappy tail tucked between his legs.

"Mike, I made you some stir-fry," My mom informed me, dabbing her cheeks with a tissue. Stir-fry never sounded so good. Grabbing the square bowl, I started to go up the stairs to the safety of my room, Finn, Rachel and Puck tagging along. We were all a mess of sniffles, grunts and coughs. I plopped down on my bed carelessly with my stir-fry on my lap. Rachel squeezed in next to me on the ugly bedspread. Finn paced around my room, gazing at the various pictures and knick-knacks that dressed my room.

"Dude," Finn gasped, holding a picture in his hand. The picture of when we were little. The one that I kept in my pocket. Puck scoffed.

"Aww, look at little Finny," Puck teased, muffled and raw. Finn passed the worn out picture to Rachel to see. She drew in a sharp breath, half gasp, half hiccup. Finn resumed his pacing.

"Dude, stop. You are making me nervous," Puck snapped. Finn frowned and sat at the foot of the bed, staring at the blank T.V. He leaned down to the floor, pulling the box of movies from under the bedframe. He rustled through them, finding his choice. _Pocahontas_. I should have known. Finn smiled wearily at me and settled himself. I finished my stir-fry, setting the dirty bowl on the floor. Rachel curled up to me, resting her head on my chest. I tried to move my slinged arm out of her way, but ended up settling it near her back. Her fingers tapped on my stomach in time with my heart. We all sat in the bittersweet moment trying to focus on the movie, but I knew all of our minds were focused on my best friend. My half-dead, quarantined best friend.

After drifting in and out of sleep, I stared at my cell phone, waiting for the O.K. to come back to the hospital. Rachel was asleep on my chest, curled up like a baby. Puck had his eyes closed in the beanbag chair he was sitting in, but I occasionally saw a tear roll down his face. Finn was dead asleep. He must have been up all night to sleep that well. I nudged him with my socked foot, causing him to twitch. We didn't have school today, but it didn't matter in the first place. I wouldn't have gone. I can barely focus on breathing.

"Puck," I whispered, trying not to wake Rachel. My eyelids felt like they weighed 1000 pounds, but I didn't want to sleep, "Hey, Puck." Puck snapped his head up and looked at me.

"What?" Puck asked, waves of pain crashing over him obviously.

"He'll be okay," I told him, really meaning it. I believed Matt was going to make it, no matter how bad the odds were. Puck's face contorted with distress. It was difficult to think that there could be an alternative. I couldn't think of that. If Matt was going to get better, the least I could do was be positive.

We all stayed at my house for almost the whole day, switching out movies, sleeping, eating, talking and crying. It was hard to stay strong in a position like this. Suddenly, my phone buzzed abruptly on my bedstand. I stretched out my shaking hand to pick it up. My anxiety level was through the roof.

"Hello?" I answered, clearing my throat.

"Mike Chang?" a familiar deep voice was on the other end. Dr. Grace, "You can come back now. Matt's pretty stable and is drifting in and out of consciousness. I think he would want you here." I hung on to his words, tasting each one. Every word took a breath away.

"Thank you," was all I could whisper back. Puck's eyes flew open, hearing the conversation. He stood up swiftly.

"We have to go," Puck declared. I stopped him.

"Puck, you know you can't go into the ICU?" I asked him. Puck weighed the words. After a few seconds of thinking, Puck spoke.

"I don't care. The least I can do is be in the hospital when he needs it," Puck said, clearly upset he couldn't see Matt. I noticed we didn't even say Matt's name anymore. It was too painful.

"Thanks, man," I said, sighing. I tried to scooch out from under Rachel without waking her up, failing.

"Where are you guys going?" Rachel asked groggily. I explained to her what was going on, "I'm coming with you." I was glad. I wanted her to be with me.

Puck drove us to the hospital in Rachel's car. Rachel leaned against me in the car, tracing her fingers up and down my good arm. I felt bad when we got there and I had to leave them in the waiting room. The stiff air was like a slap in the face as I entered the ICU. Dr. Grace stopped me before I could reach Matt's room.

"Do you want me to put a cast on that arm?" He asked, raising his eyebrow. I didn't want to, but I had a feeling I didn't have a choice. I just nodded slowly and followed Dr. Grace into a small, blank room.

"What color do you want?" He asked, chuckling under his breath.

"Red," I replied quickly. Matt's favorite color. Dr. Grace grabbed the selected color and worked quickly on my arm. I barely looked down. My mind was elsewhere.

"I think you are really brave, Mike. Matt would be impressed by your courage," The doctor said as his gentle fingers fumbled with the cast material, "It's hard to be stong, sometimes." He's telling me.

Once my arm was wrapped up, I didn't have to use the sling anymore, thankfully. I headed back into Matt's room. To my surprise, Matt's eyes were open.

"Hi," I breathed. Matt struggled to keep focus on me. I didn't blame him.

"H-i" Matt whispered back, coarse and strained. I sat down in the chair that I was sitting in just a few hours ago. I watched Matt through the tangle of monitor wires. A marker was lying on the tray next to Matt. He twitched his fingers a bit, signaling me to come over to him. I smiled at him. He asked to get my arm casted, just so he could sign it. I handed him the marker so he didn't have to stretch his weak arm to get it. Through fluttering eyes, Matt took the cap off, winced at the pain and carefully wrote his name on my bright cast. It was messy and I couldn't really read it, but it was Matt's signature all the same. Curling the corners of his mouth up, Matt drifted back into a sleep, not unconsciousness. I smiled back at him, even if he couldn't see it. Sliding back into my chair, I studied the signature, smiling at every aspect of it. Dr. Grace poked his head in, flashing me a smile. Out of everything I would ever own, this signature was my favorite, no matter how small of a gesture.

**Do I love you?**

**A. Yes**

**B. Yes**

**C. Yes**

**D. All of the above **

**hahaha p.s. how did you guys like tuesday's glee episode? i thought it was pretty good...mike's dancing for the win! **


	7. Signs and Speeches

**i am so sorry about the short chapter. i had to finish quite fast..the internet goes out at my dad's house at about 8:30 :/ sorryyyy...forgive me? longer chapter tomorrow...i promise :)**

Chapter 7: Signs and Speeches

"Don't leave," Matt would breathe occasionaly, hoarse and painful. He would shift his fingers too, making sure my hand was still there. Pieces of my soul would break off on each one of his stabbing whispers. I would rub idle circles on his hand, just as Rachel did.

"Relax, breathe. I'm not going anywhere," I repeated over and over, watching the agonizing tears drip from under Matt's eyelids. His breath was wheezing and strained, slapping me in the face. I rested my head on the hospital bed, trying to relax him. Steady beeps kept time with Matt's sluggish heartbeat. A chorus of bleeps and drips twisted my stomach in knots, "Just relax." Matt grunted in misery, tearing open the burning wound in my heart. I decided to sing to him, a comfort that always worked for me. I raised my head and my heart to sing, to wrap the room in the melodies, to caress the world in music. Opening my mouth to start the song, all that came out was a squeaking, cracked, dissapointed sound. I sufficed for a low hum, sweet and slow, mingling with my tired breath. The scrawled signature on my cast was screaming to me, making it hard to focus on the tune. I stared at it, decoding the writing again.

"S-sorry," Matt choked out, a breathless whisper. I sat back up, bewildered. He fluttered his eyelids, struggling to keep them open.

"What are you talking about?" I asked him, shaking his hand a little bit. I never noticed how pale and lifeless Matt's face was, dressed up with the bright red slashes.

"F-for w-w-orry-ing you," He replied, fighting to catch his breath afterward. I scoffed, surprised by his crazy words.

"Don't talk," I demanded after hearing his panting, "Matt, you had a sudden heart attack! You are pitying me?" I added, gently but meaningful. I tightened my grip on Matt's hand as he started to cry again. "Don't worry, please."

"Ok-ay," Matt breathed, tears rolling down his faded cheek. This was the worst thing to watch, Matt feeling terrible and going through this pain. "T-talk to m-me."

"I told you to stop talking," I reminded him, listening to his coarse breath. I focused on his words, tasting each one. I obliged. "Do you remember ninth grade?"

When Matt and I were in ninth grade, our English teacher, Ms. Onee, gave us an assignment to make a speech and write an essay about ourselves. We were working on a public speaking unit, one of the hardest things I had done in a long time. I was, and still am, an extremely shy person. Giving speeches was like my own personal hell. Matt had no issues. I would say Matt was the most outgoing, bubbly person I have ever met, making public speaking as easy as pie. I stressed over the speech for days, wondering what I would say, what I would do, how I would move, everything. There was so much to say and so little time to prepare. Matt tried to help me, but ended up making the speech more stressful. When the day came, I went after Matt to see how I should act at the podium and still look cool. I remember his presentation perfectly, down to every detail.

"Good Morning, I'm Matt Rutheford. I am 15 years old and live in Lima, Ohio. First of all, I think talking about our lives is a big joke. I can tell you all you want about me, but you will never know what goes on between my ears. No one will ever know my thoughts, or Mike's thoughts, or Tessa's thoughts, or Bree's thoughts, or Finn's thoughts, except for yourself. Anyway, so I don't fail this, I was born here and have lived here all of my life. I was always fascinated with singing and dancing, but never revealed it to anyone. I really don't care what anyone thinks of me, now that I am on the football team. I lived a relatively normal childhood, besides the fact that I was always in trouble. When I was 12, I finally 'turned my life around'. I just stopped getting in trouble, I guess. Anyway, I was 7 when I first had an experience with death. My grandfather died of gastric cancer that spread to his heart. My grandpa and I were close...closer than anyone could be. I was pretty cut up. My parents were so fed up with me sulking all the time. That very same year, my parents had another kid, my little sister, Erica. Erica was the brattiest baby I have ever seen, but she turned out okay with an awesome brother like me. My life isn't that drab and uneventful, but that's all I have time for. Thank you," Matt said, talking expressively with his hands. It was like magical sign language. Matt talked with such force and power. The whole room stared at him, mouths agape. I felt like such a failure after my speech, knowing it would never live up to Matt's. After that, Bree started to hang around him, flirty and obvious.

I went on and on about the 9th grade, replaying the whole year for Matt. His lips would twitch, expressing a smile. I blabbed on about different things, the laughs, the tears, the fights. Pausing, Matt shifted his hand out of mine. He propped it up on his elbow, drawing attention to his hand. His fingers were moving into different positions. I squinted, trying to decode this hand language. Sign language. I felt like such an idiot. Hand language?

"Do it again," I said. He was trying to tell me something and I didn't catch any of it.

"D, O, R, K," Matt signed to me. That's Matt. Joking around even in his position. His hand looked dead and cold.

"Hey!" I defended, joking. I remembered back in 8th grade when Matt and I needed a way to communicate in class. We decided to learn sign language, but gave up after we learned the alphabet. I would never forget it.

"I- A, M- P, R, O, U, D- O, F- Y, O, U," Matt went on, the signs fatiguing his fingers. He started to pant again.

"Why?" I inquired. Why _would_ he be proud of me? What did I ever do? His hand started to form letters again.

"R, A, B, I, D- K, I, T, T, E, N, S," Matt added, breathing a playful snort, "G,O,I,N,G- T,O- S,L,E,E,P." He flopped his worn arm back down on the bed. I crept my hand back to his. It was a comfort to know he was there, no matter how far away he really was.

"He's doing really good," Madylyn told me soon after he fell asleep. She was adding more clear liquid to an I.V. that was connected to Matt's arm. "Go visit your friends. They have been there for hours. Trust me, he'll be okay. I will hold his hand for you." Reluctantly, I let his hand go. Madylyn shifted her hand in my previous position. I gave her a weak smile and left the ICU.

"Mike!" Rachel cried when I entered the stiff, tense air of the waiting room. Everyone was on edge, sitting on the edges of their seats. Puck rushed over, his face pink with previous tears. Both him and Rachel burst into sobs when they saw me. Puck's soft, throaty sobs weren't heard over Rachel's squeaky, high weeps.

"He's okay, it's okay," I repeated to both of them. Hysterical, Rachel threw herself on me. Her worried arms wrapped around my sides, resting her frigid hands on my back.

"We were so scared," Rachel weeped. Rachel slipped her arms off of me and flicked her head toward Puck, tears streaming down her face. I walked over to Puck and pulled him into a much needed hug. He trembled nervously in my arms.

"It'll all be okay," I whispered, feeling fresh, hot tears sting my face. Puck nodded, sniffling. I patted his back.

"He's going to make it?" Puck asked, muffled and watery. I nodded solemnly, still unsure. Puck shook my arm sadly and let me go. I stayed with them for a while, spilling the details of what happened in the ICU. Rachel started to settle down, fitting her fingers in the spaces between mine. Her fingers twisted uncomfortably. Puck's phone buzzed feverishly in pocket, begging to be free. Puck groaned and dug it out, composing himself.

"Hello?" Puck answered. His stainless steel skin was grown back. All of his emotions were contained inside, tied back by a frayed rope. He pulled on a loose string that was hanging off of his shirt as he talked absentmindedly to the phone. He ended the call with a "Mhm" and shoved the phone back in his pocket angrily.

"What's going on?" I asked, rubbing Rachel's hand with my thumb.

"Rachel, can you drive me home?" Puck started, "I have to babysit my sister." Furious tears snipped the ropes, one at a time. Rachel looked up at me anxiously.

"Go," I told Rachel. I wasn't sure if the look was a question or not.

"O-of course, Noah," Rachel stammered, letting go of my hand. She left me with a quick kiss. "I love you." Rachel's words squeezed my heart. My breath tied itself together in my throat. I nodded, too dumbfounded to say a thing. Puck gave me another hug and they were gone. I buried my head in my hands, letting out a deep sigh. I cried into my hands, letting go of all of my self respect. An old woman with tufts of white hair approached me, handed me a teddy bear, wrapped her arms around me for a few seconds and set her bony hands on my shoulders.

"You'll make it through. You have my blessing," She croaked, smiling warmly at me. The smile acted as some kind of emotional duct tape, repairing a small part of my soul. The part that says, "Everybody is crooked and the world is unfair." It was a bittersweet moment, a sweet act, but it wasn't going to fix Matt's condition. I looked closely at the small, furry teddy bear that was sitting happily in my lap. The words, "Love, Laugh, Live," were stitched in the shape of a heart on the bear's chest. It stared up at me stupidly. For a minute, I envied the bear. It will always be a comfort, no matter the situation and doesn't even have to try. Then, I realized it was a stuffed animal. It doesn't have feelings. It can't feel numb or broken. It can't be in love or be happy. I could love, a toy couldn't. I replayed Rachel's savory words in my head, even if they were sad and torn up. She meant it, I could feel it. I gave the woman a tight-lipped smile and headed back into the ICU. The room Matt was in never looked so dead and grey. Madylyn was still holding Matt's hand when I got back. I probably looked really stupid, tear streaked face, hanging on to a lifeless toy.

"Hey," Madylyn greeted me, giving me a quick, comforting hug, "How are you doing?" She sighed in relief.

"Okay," I replied, tearful, "How's he doing?" Madylyn grimaced.

"His heart is very, very weak, but we are working on getting him strong again. Nothing's 100 percent yet," She replied, twirling an uncomfortable piece of red hair in her thin fingers. Brutally honest, but I needed to hear it. We both lingered in front of the bed, watching Matt sleep. He looked dead. His skin was pale and looked like it was stretched too thin over his body. Matt's head was flopped to the side of the pillow under him. His body was decorated with various tubes and wires. His mouth was turned downward in a dissapointed frown. That wasn't Matt. It was an empty shell. I wanted to scream. Madylyn patted my shoulder and left Matt's small room. I walked over and resumed my position. I grabbed back on Matt's empty hand. I felt something different. A spark. A tiny flame. A small bit of heat working off the broken pieces it had to burn. As quickly as it came, the spark was gone again, leaving me alone with the abnormal heart monitors and the ugly dripping sounds. Leaving me broken and vacant, just as I was. I felt like that spark was extremely important. It turns out, it was.

**it feels good to do something good, you know? to write something meaningful...it feels really good to turn meaningless, dead words into something expressive. love you :) thanks for sticking with me, loyal readers!**


	8. Truth

**i hate not being able to follow a schedule haha thanks for staying with me, you loyal little penguins :P**

Chapter 8: Truth

Matt's eyes fluttered open and he shifted his head toward me. His eyes were colorless and pained. I stared back at him, life lingering under his skin. A small smile toyed with the corners of his lips. His hand would twitch under my grip.

"What?" I would ask, wondering why he was staring at me like that. He would shake his head and lift his shoulders slightly. I knew there was a reason. There had to be. No matter how drained his face was, his eyes were actually opening all the way. He did this over and over. Not saying a word, just staring. The spark kept coming back, but staying for longer. The color in his flat eyes would burn for a moment, then disappear, like he spent all of his energy. Life would pulse under his skin, leaving in tinted, but sickly. We did the same routine for about 6 days. At 10:00 p.m., I would leave the hospital to go home. After I slept, (terribly, I might add), I would float through the school day. I was being force-fed my education. Even with Rachel holding on my hand everyday, I would always focus on what Matt would be doing if he was at school. Glee club was canceled everyday because no one could really pay attention. As soon as school was out, I would drive or Rachel would drive me back to the hospital. Dr. Grace let Rachel in the ICU one day, but she probably didn't want to come back. That day was atrocious.

"Mike, I'm scared," Rachel said, thick and shaky. She tightened the death grip she had on my hand, her knuckles turning white. I stopped her and grabbed her other hand the best I could with my casted arm. Rachel's darting eyes avoided my face.

"Calm down. I am here, just relax," I comforted. My breath swayed under my lips, letting Rachel's hands fall back down to their sides. I took one hand and traced her jaw line, lingering at the chin. A weak smile hesitated on her bare lips. God, she was adorable. Her eyes met with mine, causing me to freeze. In a moment of pulsing courage, I pressed my lips to hers. It was gentle and powerful. Our mouths molded together, memorizing each movement. Lips dancing with each other, the world turned faster. My stomach tingled around the edges, making me ache for more when we pulled apart. Landing back to where we belonged, Rachel slid her fingers in the absent spaces of my hand, slow and sweet.

"I'm ready," Rachel whispered, staring ahead. My feet started to carry me forward, working on autopilot. I have done this too many times, slapped by the tasteless air every time. Rachel felt the air change in the ICU too, gasping. Her hand twisted and gripped harder as we got closer to Matt's room. When we got into the room, Rachel broke down. The air rushed out of her and sobs shook her body. I held on her shoulders, hushing her and hugging her close. Matt was asleep at the time, which probably made it worse for her. She trembled in my tired arms, breaking my heart again. I felt awful. Hospitals were already hard for her, so this was probably hell. Breaking free from my grip, Rachel approached Matt's sleeping body. She ran her fingers over his colorless hand, panting with tears. As quickly as her hand went to Matt's, it was gone. Rachel crumpled into me, resting her head on my chest. Her hands were balled up into tight fists, shoved up by her face.

"I can't stay," Rachel whispered, strained and hoarse. I stroked her hair lightly, reassuring her.

"It'll be okay, Rachel. Don't cry," I murmured, tearing up. Kissing her gently on the forehead and twisted her hair in my cold fingers. I rested my cheek on the top of her head and hummed to her, breathing steady and deep. Rachel hiccuped and sniffled, settling down. Shifting up on her tip-toes, Rachel gave me a small kiss, but magical all of the same. She sat on my lap for the rest of the night, crying and talking to Matt. He drifted in and out of sleep, choking out small sentences and forming letters with his fingers again. Once it was around 9:30, Matt told us that we should go, no matter how much I refused. Leaving him with a squeeze of the hand, Rachel and I left the ICU awkwardly, hand in hand.

Leaving the hospital behind us, Rachel and I walked through the whipping rain to her car, not saying a word. Clusters of white stars shone through the dark clouds, making the night a bit brighter.

"I'm freezing," Rachel shivered, clutching her elbows. She had a woolen sweater on with a sleeping giraffe on the front. Taking off my sweatshirt, I slung it over her thin shoulders. No wonder she was cold. My jacket looked huge on her, the sleeves far too long and the bottom hanging almost longer than her red skirt. She kissed me softly on the cheek in return. Taking my hand, we made the rest of the way to the car.

I plopped into Rachel's sparkling vehicle, more worn out than usual. Once Rachel was seated and situated, we sat for a few seconds in the silence before she drew in a deep breath.

"Do you just want to come to my house? It's a Friday night and my dad's haven't met you yet," She asked, twiddling her thumbs and biting her lip timidly. Whoa. Was this really happening to me? I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to find the words so I wouldn't stutter.

"Yeah," I confirmed, the best thing I could think of at the time. I squirmed anxiously. I couldn't tell if I was nervous, or afraid, or just plain jumpy, but I knew I was excited. Questions sprinted through my mind, too fast to get a grasp on them. I sat in the seat, staring ahead, eyes popping out of my head. Life was coming at me like a fast paced highway. The cars came at you too fast again and again. It was different to have an angel come and pick me up from being hit over and over, especially if that angel was Rachel Berry, the girl of my dreams. It was overwhelming. My thoughts were interrupted by a cold hand on my knee.

"Look, Mike. I know that everything is pretty bad with Matt," Rachel started, her voice breaking on the last words, "but, I think you need to get away for at least tonight. He'll be okay." I stared at her blankly, scared by the truth of her words. I didn't want to believe them, but I had to. Nodding, I kissed Rachel lightly again, electrocuting my senses. Her lips were delicious and smooth, perfect every single time. Her fingers twisted through my hair delicately, ruffling but not pulling.

"I know," I replied, holding her tight to me. With that last movement, Rachel drove intently to her house, racking up my nerves the closer we got.

Pulling up to Rachel's long driveway, I saw no other cars. Rachel's house was breathtaking. It was pale yellow, framed with shrubs and bushes. They were wet and a bit snowy. The 2 large trees that slept lazily on the tiny front lawn were still dressed with snowy drifts. The most noticeable feature was the very top of the house. There was a huge window, sheathed by a couple of flowery curtains.

"Well, I guess we have to wait for my dads to get home for you to meet them," Rachel said, ending with a tiny chuckle. I got out of the car as fast as I could, trying to reach Rachel's door before she could. Opening the door for her, I bowed jokingly and grabbed her fingers lightly.

"Shall we, ma'am?" I asked in my best British accent, failing miserably. Rachel's chiming giggle filled the empty winter air.

"It would be an honor, sir," She replied, getting out of the car and hooking arms with me. We skipped toward the house, laughing like goons the whole way.

"Whoa," I gasped, entering the big home. It was warm and comfortable. Everything was perfectly situated and looked like it came straight from a home improvement magazine.

"Are you hungry?" Rachel asked, hopping off toward the kitchen.

"OH MY GOD, YES. I AM STARVING," I screamed in my head. I am glad I didn't say that. My stomach barked in approval.

"Yeah," I replied awkwardly. Rachel flurried around, grabbing various foods in her arms and bounded up the stairs. I watched her pass me, wondering why she was running.

"You coming?" She giggled, running faster. I chased after her, running too fast to linger on the pictures that dotted the long stairway. She reached her room, chucked everything on the bed and kept running around her room, avoiding me playfully. Not focusing on the amazing room that surrounded me, I jumped over the bed and grabbed Rachel by her waist. It was like a giggle button. She lost it, shaking with laughter. Rachel struggled against my arms, trying to escape.

"I've got you now," I growled, turning her around and silencing her with a deep kiss. It was unexpectedly powerful. I was shot into space, further than I had ever been. My heart prickled around the edges, butterflies dancing deep in my stomach. Rachel hung on to the kiss, holding it like she was trying to preserve the moment forever.

"Wow," Rachel gasped, pulling away from me finally, "That was...magic." I couldn't have thought of a better way to say it. My stomach chewed on the edges of itself with hunger, growling louder. Rachel burst into shaking giggles again.

"Eat," She said through the wall of laughter. Obeying, I grabbed a package of dried apricots off Rachel's dressed up bed. It was covered in an array of foods that I expected Rachel to eat. Mostly dried fruit and crackers. I didn't mind. Leaning back to the head of her bed, Rachel flopped down next to me, pushing the crinkling packages to the end. Her head found my shoulder and rested there. I didn't know why, but it reminded me of a song I had heard on the radio a few days ago. Because it fit so perfectly, I learned the song, keeping it in my back pocket for whenever I needed it. I set down the package and got off the bed, standing up in front of it. I dug feverishly for my iPod, plugging it into the pink speakers that were sitting on a wooden desk. Rachel sat up cross-legged, staring at me, confused.

"What are you doing?" She asked, accenting the question with the familiar chuckle I loved. I cleared my throat nervously and found the song I was looking for.

"Something that I thought you would enjoy," I replied, licking my suddenly dry lips. I clenched my hands together, remembering the words as the upbeat intro started. Oh god, Mike. Don't screw this up. Beginning the song, my meaningful words filled the awkward silence. A huge, billion dollar smile spread across Rachel's face, confirming that this was a good choice.

_If you're my girl, swirl me around your room with feeling_

_ And as we twirl, the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling_

_ Will shine for us, as love sweeps over the room_

_ 'Cause we tend to make each other blush_

_ You make me blush_

At this point, Rachel was dancing with me around the room, following the melodies. As the song ended, Rachel sighed, wrapping her arms around me again. I let out all of the air that was collecting in my lungs, ecstatic that she liked the song.

"I have one for you, too," Rachel beamed, switching my iPod out for hers. The room lit on fire as the soft, acoustic melody kissed me lightly. Rachel sat on the desk, swinging her legs back and forth. It was the most adorable thing. My breath was stolen again as she started to sing. Her smooth, gentle voice invited me in.

_You and I are not tied to the ground_

_ Not falling, but rising, like rolling around_

_ Eyes closed above the rooftops_

_ Eyes closed, we're gonna spin through the stars_

_ Our arms as wide as the sky_

_ We are going to ride the blue all the way to the end of the world_

_ To the end of the world_

The ending was sealed with a kiss, breathtaking and beautiful.

"I love you," Rachel breathed, short and lovely. She stared up into my eyes, really meaning it. I knew I felt it, too. My heart beat hard against my chest.

"I love you, too, Rachel. Until the end of time," I whispered back, feeling the words. Rachel smiled again and reached up to kiss me, but was interrupted by the slamming of a door.

"Rachel! Sweetie?" A voice yelled, causing her head to whip toward the door. Rachel grabbed my hand tightly and pulled me out of the memorable room.

"My dads," She whispered to me, squeezing slightly on my fingers. Nervousness washed over me.

"What if they don't like me?" I whispered back as we descended the stairs. Rachel stopped walking and gave me a disapproving look.

"Calm down," She said, caressing my cheek with her cold hand. She patted it, leaving my face tingling. Reaching the end of the stairs, Rachel let go of my hand and ran over to her dads. She gave them both a hug and motioned for me to come over. In unison, their eyebrows both raised.

"Dad, meet Mike," She declared as I walked over, slow and uncomfortable. After clearing her throat, both of her dads gave me a slight handshake.

"Uhh, Hi, Mike," One of her dads greeted me. His voice was deep and slightly accented. He had deep, dark skin, dressed with a small moustache. Her other dad gave me a tight-lipped smile and peered over his glasses at me. Rachel stood in between us, trying to make conversation. I was so socially awkward, ending up watching a movie with Rachel and her dads, being silent the whole time. Rachel would lean against me, smiling up at me. She was trying to make me feel welcome, but I don't think I would for a long time. I floated through the rest of the musical we were watching.

"Alrighty, I'm going to bed. Nice to meet you, Mike," The deep voiced man said, grabbing his husband's hand. They headed down a long hallway to their room. Waving goodbye to me, they escaped to their bedroom. Rachel's hand crept back under my fingers.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said, groaning. I smiled, no matter how uncomfortable I was.

"Don't be. It was...okay," I replied, being half-honest. Rachel slammed her back against the couch, groaning again. I copied her, jokingly.

"I'm tired. Bed?" Rachel asked, standing up. She adjusted her skirt, waiting for my response. I nodded and followed her back up the stairs. I sat back down in the spot of her bed while Rachel changed into her pajamas. I thought of Matt, like I did every night lately. I wondered how he was doing again, worried for him. My heart sank back into the pit of my stomach, burying itself in the lining. Rachel shook me from my thoughts as she emerged from her bathroom. She handed me a small pile of clothes.

"The pajamas are my dad's, but they should fit you," Rachel smiled at me, "I'll be waiting." I formed my lips into a grin and headed into the small bathroom. The moment was bittersweet. I was so happy, but couldn't stop thinking of Matt. I felt like half of me had disappeared. The half where my best friend was supposed to be. I sifted through the pajama pile. There was a pair of jet black pants along with a shirt that looked way too small for me. I left it folded in the bathroom along with the rest of my clothes, to lazy to bring them back out. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized how worn out I really was. Running my tired hands through my hair, I noticed the deep bags forming under my eyes, which were a bright pink around the edges. My lips were completely pale, drained of all color. Groaning, I walked out of the bathroom back into Rachel's room. Her mouth fell open for a second and quickly tried to hide. I stifled a laugh and dropped onto the bed next to her. I was too tired to talk, or watch T.V., or anything. Falling asleep to Rachel tracing the lines from my chest to the bottom of my stomach, I still thought of Matt. We'd go back to the hospital tomorrow. Everything would be okay. I kept repeating the words in my head, praying that they would hold true.

**okay, okay, i know it's fluffy haha hope you don't mind...i just felt like this story wasn't "rachel-y" enough...hahaha **

**p.s. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT OTHER SHIPS YOU GUYS ENJOY! PLEASEE! **

**p.p.s. i love you, you know **

**p.p.p.s. sorry if i scared you**

**p.p.p.p.s. nevermind...i'm not sorry. i'm not sorry for expressing my feelings, and those feelings are strong lovely feelings for you**

**p.p.p.p.p.s. sorry...coming off as a jerk now... but i mean it.**


	9. Wrestling

**fluff fluff fluffity fluff! helllloooo, lovely little pandas :) how are you doing on this fine evening?**

Chapter 9: Wrestling

I was woken up by the tingling vibrations of my phone radiating from the bathroom. Jumping out of the bed to answer it, Rachel sat up groggily, rubbing her wide eyes. Her hair was twirled into tight curls from sleeping on it. Stretching her arms out, Rachel yawned the sleep off of herself and stared after me.

"Hello," I answered, trying not to sound like I had just woke up. I tried to stifle a yawn, shoving it to the back of my throat. Rachel raised an eyebrow at me.

"Mike?" Madylyn's high voice asked, a hint of surprise accenting her words. My stomach tied itself into a firm knot.

"Yeah," I replied, strained and desperate. Madylyn drew in a deep breath. I don't know if she was trying to build suspense, or kill me, but she was doing both. Madylyn then said the best words she could have possibly said at that moment.

"Matt's out of the ICU," She told me. I could hear her smile in her voice. My weak, wobbily knees gave out on me, causing me to drop to the floor. The room shook with the impact. Warm, wet, joyous tears started to pour down my face. Rachel rolled off of the bed, got up from the floor and sprinted over. She looked like a ninja. A clumsy ninja that knocks down a few things. She sat cross-legged next to me, straightened her light purple, sequin encrusted nightgown anxiously and rubbed my back in sympathy, not knowing what was going on. I turned to her and replayed the words in my own voice.

"Matt's out of the ICU," I repeated, breathlessly. Rachel threw her arms around me ecstatically. I could feel her excited tears drip down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. My mind was floating around, not getting a grasp on what was going on.

"But, he can't have any visitors until at least Monday morning. We need to see how he will do out of such a confined, private space," Madylyn continued, knocking me back down a few pegs, "He has been eating a little bit and sitting up on his own. Things are looking up, Mike. I have to get back to work now, bye!"

"Bye," I replied, snapping the phone shut. Nothing could wipe the smile off of my face, even though I couldn't go visit him yet and the nurse made him sound like a newborn baby. Rachel pulled off of me, her smile matching mine. I kissed her forcefully, her tounge exploring my mouth curiously. Her slender fingers mingled with my messy bedhead. Rachel pulled away, her eyes lingering on my lips.

"That's such great news," Rachel breathed, wrapping her arms around my shoulders again. I held her tighter, not wanting to let go. Her hugs were the best, warm and comforting. She made me feel like I was safe. Ninja Rachel to the rescue, I guess. Pulling away, drew her eyebrows together, deep in thought. I waited for her train of thought to pass through the station, not wanting to interrupt, "What are you doing for Easter?" Easter? Damn, I really have been out of touch.

"I don't know. I have to go home sometime today and get clothes. My mom is probably having a heart attack not knowing where I am," I replied. Rachel nodded her head and got up from the soft, pink carpet. Reaching a hand out, she helped me up from the ground. I wrapped my arms around her waist when I got up and slung her over my shoulder, grabbing her with my good arm. She squirmed and giggled in my grasp.

"Let me down!" Rachel laughed, reaching her arms down to my sides. Her fingers searched for something to grab on to, but she was too high up to get a grasp on my pants.

"Never!" I replied, making my best pretend stern face, bending my knees and straightening them again, like I was doing a vigorous workout. Rachel just laughed harder, shaking me with each giggle. I twisted her around in my arms so I was carrying her like a baby, kissed her and set her down on the bed. I had a lot of practice with carrying people like that. I had to carry Artie into the auditorium like that every single time we had glee club. I turned from the bed, yawning and stretching again.

"GOTCHA!" Rachel growled as she grabbed on to both of my hips, pulling me down on the bed. She sat on my stomach and didn't let me up. Rachel crossed her arms and sat on my torso as proper as possible. I mimicked her position, making her burst out in laughter again. Pulling her face close to me, close enough to feel her sweet breath wash over my face, and rolled out from under her, making my escape.

"Hey!" Rachel whined, putting her hands on her hips. Her face looked thoroughly offended. Sticking out her lip childishly, Rachel made a "hrumph" sound and bounced on her messed up bed. The blankets lay on the side of her room from when she ran to my side. A stack of sheet music was sprawled across the floor from bumping into the side of a small table, too. The food from last night lay unmistakably pushed off of the foot of Rachel's purple-sheeted mattress. I snorted at the sight, shaking Rachel from her immature position. She ran both hands through her messy hair, groaning.

"I know," She moaned, jumping up off the bed. She retreated back into my arms, careless, "Well, I'll drive you home as soon as I get ready. Okay?" Rachel asked, giving me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Be good." With a nod, Rachel flitted out of the room into her bathroom.

"I'm going to creep in your bedroom!" I yelled, joking. Rachel giggled, rushing water joining in with her chiming laughter. I looked around her room, at the screensaver of her computer (which was us, sharing a juice box), the various pictures attatched to the walls of her and her dads, her cats, different sheet music and a small, pink guitar that slept in the corner, "Rachel, I'm bored." I called, talking like a little kid, whining to their mother. I opened the bathroom door once I heard the shower curtain squeak shut.

"Mike, what are you doing?" She asked, chuckling. Rachel was pretending to be defensive, because that's how she was. I sat up on the cold, marble counter.

"Rachel, remember back when you took me to the hospital the first time, when I broke my arm?" I asked, holding up my cast even though I knew she couldn't see it. Rachel cleared her throat uncomfortably. I heard the water splash as she walked to the other end of the shower.

"Um, yes," Rachel replied, stealing my awkward shine. A plastic bottle clicked open inside of the curtain. I ran my fingers through my hair, building up the courage to ask her the question that had been lingering in my mind for so long.

"Why did you kiss me?" I blurted quickly, probably slurring my words. I looked down at the floor, waiting for a response. I heard Rachel choke a bit and drop the bottle on the shower floor, splashing water outside of the bathtub. The water was stable, Rachel standing inert.

"Well," She started, attempting to avoid the moment, "Remember back about 2 months ago in glee club? You were dancing, very well, by the way, and knocked me over?" I groaned quietly.

"Yes," I replied, hitting my frozen, bare feet on the wooden cabinet under the countertop. Rachel stuttered and kept on with her explanation.

"Well, the reason you bumped into me," Rachel began, then paused, "It was because I was staring at you. Your dancing was...magical. I was amazed. That's when I knew we were the perfect pair. When I kissed you, it was just because the time seemed right," Pause. "I don't regret a thing."

My mouth hung open like a gaping idiot.

"Are you serious?" I inquired, disbelieving. I couldn't believe her, "It was love at first kick?" My heart beat hard against my ribcage, begging to be free.

"Yes," Rachel replied, firmly, "Now, tell me why you are so shy around me." Rachel demanded, a hint of teasing lingering in her voice. Oh, God. I was dreading this moment. The reason why I was so scared around Rachel and her family.

"Well," I started the same way as Rachel, "You aren't a random hook-up. Rachel, I have had my heart smashed, demolished, torn up and stepped on when I fell for a girl who didn't feel the same way. I went about dating them in a way that was totally opposite than this. I was outgoing, took risks, was as crazy as I could be...and they broke my heart. Granted, I didn't like them 1/1000 as I love you, but it hurt. I am just trying to do things right...because I love you." I let out a deep, awkward breath. I felt like Rachel lifted the heaviest weight in the world off of my chest. A weight that was crushing my ribcage, not letting my heart to use it's full potential. I heard Rachel gasp slightly.

"Santana," Rachel replied, remembering the whole thing. I was devastated. Santana just wanted me for sex, like she did for everyone else. I didn't have sex with her, so she dumped me, "I'm sorry for asking." Rachel replied, apologetically.

"Rachel, really, don't worry. You are all I need," I said, sounding like a sappy sucker again. Jeez, when did I turn into such a predictable guy? I really was afraid of breaking both mine and Rachel's hearts. She was a perfect girl, I needed her.

"Mike, can you go? I have to get dressed," Rachel informed me, popping her head out of the pink curtain, leaving me with a subtle wink. I gave her one, too, and left the bathroom.

"Okay, ready to go?" Rachel asked, emerging from the bathroom, fully dressed. She had a bright yellow, spotted dress, dressed up with a black belt just above the waist. Her hair was back to normal, falling just below the short cardigan she had on. I was still unshowered, pajama pants and my "Slinky" t-shirt I had on yesterday. Grasping on the rest of my things, I was ready to leave.

"Of course," I replied, grabbing on to Rachel's hand. Our fingers intertwined, love fusing them together. We re-entered Rachel's car after running through the heavy rain that attacked us. The car ride wasn't awkward at all. The confessions drew us together, no tension holding us apart. The topics flowed from one to another like running water all the way to my house. Rachel giggled the most I've ever heard her laugh before, shedding her composed mask. She was even more amazing when she was herself, not the girl who was too focused on her amazing dreams to focus on the little things. She told me about her cat, Jamie, attacking her dad when he wore a hat with feathers on it. I told her about Finn and I when we were little. The ride seemed to take no time at all with our laid back conversation. It was so easy and natural, it was impossible not to notice.

Going inside my house, my mom seemed pretty angry with me. Her arms crossed each other, glued to her stomach. Her foot tapped rapidly, irritated.

"Hi, mom," I greeted her, smiling, "Matt's out of the ICU!" My mom ran over to me, breaking her arms apart. They wrapped around me, jumping up and down.

"Really? Mike, that's great!" She gushed, kissing me on both cheeks. She did the same for Rachel, too.

"I'm going to go take a shower," I said, kissing Rachel lightly and giving my mom a quick hug.

I got upstairs to my familiar bathroom, turning on the hot water. Undressing, I entered the scalding water, sending goosebumps down my back. The shower calmed me down, taking my mind off of the world. I thought of Rachel and my brain soup dribbling all over her when I was telling her about my awkward problems. I thought about our car ride and our wrestling match as the water soothed me. I thought about Matt, too, but then I thought about Rachel again because I was in the shower and I felt weird thinking about my best friend while I was naked.

"I'm going to peep in your roo-oom!" Rachel called from outside the bathroom, switching the scenario from earlier. Goodness gracious, she was cute. I am going soft. Goodness gracious? I jumped out of the shower, got dressed and caught Rachel going through a drawer of tiny, dusty trinkets, smiling photos and messily written papers.I slid my arms around her waist, clicking her "giggle button" again.

"You caught me," Rachel giggled, kissing me on my jaw line. The tiny kiss sent sparks through my whole body, "Your mom said you could come over for Easter after you visit with your grandparents." Rachel's smile spread across her face.

"My grandparents," I groaned. Don't get me wrong, I loved them, but I couldn't understand them. They were full Chinese. Great.

"What?" Rachel asked, crinkling her eyebrows. I explained the whole "Chinese" situation. Rachel kissed me again, "Don't worry. You can meet my family afterward." Oddly, I was excited. I wanted to meet Rachel's family, no matter how socially awkward I was.

Rachel stayed at my house for that night, singing, talking and watching movies together. Easter morning, Rachel left reluctantly, going back to her own house. I had to dress nicely for my grandparents. They were very judgy, even if I couldn't understand them. At around 10:00 in the morning, my dad's parents showed up. My maternal grandparents moved back to China, feeling like they should "connect to their Asian roots". My grandfather entered the house, already mumbling something condescendingly.

"Nín hǎo," I greeted them, one of the few words I knew in Chinese. My grandfather grunted and sat down at the table. My grandmother shook my hand and joined him. There I sat, at the table, listening to my parents chat with my grandparents in full Chinese, eating different Asian foods that my mom would lie on the table. My mom did make these amazing Chinese dumplings called Hai Gow that I really, really loved. After eating about 12 of them, my grandparents finally decided to leave.

"Zài jiàn!" I called, ready for them to leave a long time ago. Mumbling again, both of them left. Jeez, they were the crankiest old people I knew.

"Yes, you can go to Rachel's. Don't be too late," My mom warned, kissing me on the cheek and giving me a pat on the shoulder. My dad waved to me and I walked out of the door. Hopping into the cab of my trusty, beat up, old truck, Easter was already looking up and I wasn't even there yet.

**sick chapter! i am as sick as a goat! i hope it will suffice! love love love love you! (p.s. writing these after and before notes are my favorite part!)**


	10. Stop

**who's going to hate me? the answer is...everyone.**

Chapter 10: Stop

I pulled up to the shade of Rachel's bare trees, Rachel sitting on her front step, waiting for me. I exited the car, Rachel running over to me. She held on to my waist and looked up.

"How was your family?" She asked curiously, watching my facial expressions carefully. I ran my fingers through my hair again, groaning.

"Zāo gāo," I mumbled, annoyed with the situation. Rachel's eyebrows crinkled together at the Chinese, "Terrible." Her expression relaxed again, a tiny smile toying with the corners of her lips. Her fingers twirled through my hair absent mindedly.

"I'm sorry, but we will have a nice dinner with my family," Rachel declared, shifting her hand under mine. That's when it hit me.

"Rachel, you're Jewish, right?" I asked, the realization smacking me on the forehead. Rachel hushed me and scooted off through the mess of shiny cars to the side of her house like it was a big secret. She was hissing like a cat.

"Yes, I am, but my grandparents aren't. They are strict Catholics. They already hate that my dads are married and if they find out we are Jewish, they are going to chop our heads off," Rachel explained, whispering harshly, "My dad, the one that likes you, grew up Jewish, and we converted before I was born," She explained. I thought my grandparents were bad, "For today, I am a good Catholic girl." Rachel said, straightening her skirt and smacking her hands together. She broke her composed face, quivering with giggles. Grabbing my hand, we walked the familiar path to her house.

"Rachel! Mike!" Rachel's deep-voiced father greeted, shaking my hand rapidly, "Come in, come in!" Rachel's family was seated bitterly at the table, like none of them wanted to be there. Everyone had the same position, arms crossed, staring at us looked like their poses were provided by Puck. They just needed to be cracked open, or hugged, or something.

"Grandma, Grandpa, meet Mike," Rachel introduced, glancing over at me. I outstretched my hand for a handshake, but her grandparent's arms remained crossed. Retreating my rejected hand, I sat down at the table, holding Rachel's hand under the table. She squeezed it slightly, encouraging me to talk. I opened my mouth to speak, but Rachel's grandmother beat to the punch.

"Do you sing, like Rachel?" She asked, her voice raspy and worn out. Getting a good look at her, she looked like her skin was a few sizes too big, decorated by, obviously dyed, black hair. Rachel's face lit up as bright as I had ever seen. She squirmed in her seat, itching to answer the question for me.

"Yea-" I started, interrupted by Rachel's quick speech.

"Mike sings! He's amazing! Want to hear?" Rachel asked, whipping her head back and forth to me and her grandparents. I choked on my breath. Shooting Rachel a look, she pulled me out of the chair, not waiting for her grandparent's response, "Come on!" After a moment of freaking out, I relaxed. Why be nervous? They would hear me sometime.

"Okay," I shrugged, indifferently. Rachel made an approving, breathy sound.

"Kiss Me," Rachel confirmed, supplying the song name. We stood in front of the giant, brick fireplace, heat caressing my back. Courage coursed through my veins, making me surprisingly excited. It was feeling that was always hidden behind a wall of "shy" and "awkward". The walls were down when I was with my friends, but around Rachel, they were made of steel, impossible to be eaten away. They were dissolving slowly, a twinge of shyness biting my soul. Soft music began next to me. The notes, beautifully complex, surrounded the room in comfort, cushioning me from any doubt that I had.

_Kiss me out of the bearded barley_

_ Nightly, beside the green, green grass_

_ Swing, swing, swing the spinning step_

_ I'll wear those shoes and you will wear that dress._

I sang the gentle notes, setting up Rachel for her intro. Her grandparent's poses relaxed, calmed down a bit. Their eyes were opened wide, mouths gaping. Her dads were smiling supportively in front of us.

_Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight_

_ Lead me out on the moonlit floor_

_ Lift your open hand_

_ Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance_

_ Silver moon's sparkling_

_ So kiss me_

My mouth was hanging open at this point. Every time Rachel sang, it lit up something inside of me. It took the tiny flame that was burning inside and lit it up to a full-blown bonfire. My heart smashed against my chest again, aching to hold her close. The song ended, leaving the room pulsing with energy. Rachel's family clapped excitedly. Rachel curtsied and nudged me to bow, which I didn't do. I was too dumbfounded by what I just did to get a grasp on anything.

"That was marvelous," Rachel's grandmother gushed, folding her bony hands in her lap. A dinging sound came from the kitchen. Rachel's disapproving father got up animatedly.

"Dinner's done! Let me just get it set up!" He called, scurrying off to the kitchen. The table was already lined with various foods, dotted with different decorations.

"Great job," Rachel applauded me, giving me a light kiss on the cheek, "I love you." My face tingled where she touched it.

"I love you, too," I whispered back, hugging her tight. She smiled brightly, enjoying the success. We sat back down at the table, resuming our positions. Mr. Berry brought out a full chicken, glazed and brown on the outside. He started to carve it a tiny bit, giving it the "Home Improvement Magazine" feel.

"Let's pray," Rachel's grandfather declared. Rolling his eyes, Rachel's dad sat down and we all lowered our heads. Rachel's grandfather went on for a good 5 minutes. The whole duration was spent by Rachel and I drawing invisible pictures with our fingers on each other's hands, stifling tiny giggles. We both said an automated "Amen" when the prayer was finished, thankfully coming in at the right time. Rachel's dads gave us an apologetic look, seeing the annoyance in our eyes. We ate, listening to Rachel talk about glee club and upcoming songs she wants to sing. I loved hearing about her dreams, no matter how often she talked about them. I started to talk, too, the topics flowing like running water. About 2 hours later, Rachel's grandparents left, lifting an awkward weight off of the room. I breathed a shaky sigh, happy for things to be natural again. I went back home after a while, waiting for the next day. I was ready to go visit Matt again. I floated through the next day of school, not focused on what I was doing again. After my "education", I drove back to the hospital.

"Mike!" Matt smiled excitedly as I entered his new room. It was still quiet, but it was much better than before. The spark was back in him, happiness radiating from him. He was sitting up on small bed, clicking through the channels of a tiny television. I gave him a happy hug, feeling the warmth fill him back up.

"Matt, you look so much better!" I smiled back, studying him carefully. The color was back in his face, making him look a little bit more human. Matt laughed a breathy chuckle. He looked well rested, his eyes fully open.

"Hakuna Matata, dude," Matt replied, referencing another favorite movie of mine. We chattered about Rachel, school and football, just like old times. Before I left, I could swear I heard Matt humming "Hakuna Matata".

"I'll be back tomorrow, dude," I told him, leaving his room, "Bye." Matt waved goodbye, throwing a little bit of cracker at me while I turned out the door.

I reached home, my mom lounging lazily on the couch. She turned to me excitedly.

"How was Matt?" She asked, smiling. I told her every detail of what happened. I went to bed shortly afterward, my brain soothed.

My phone buzzed angrily in my pocket, shaking me from my sleep. The alarm clock's blaring numbers shone in my face. 6:15. Groaning, I picked up the phone.

"He-" I started, interrupted by shaking, immense sobs. It was Madylyn again.

"Get to the hospital...now!" She yelled, weeping into the phone. As quickly as she came, she went. The "disconnected" beep screamed from the other end. My heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach, the air stopped up in my throat.

I sprinted out to my rusty truck, my blood pumping loudly under my flushed skin. Shoving the key in ignition, I drove as fast as my truck would go, which was still below the speed limit. The rain whipped on my windshield, making splatter marks everywhere. Familiar scenery whizzed past me, not noticing a thing. My mouth was dry and chapped, my breath coming in wheezing pants. Pedestrians, soaked with rain, looked like amorphous blobs on the side of the unforgiving road. My truck started to sputter and groan.

"Oh no, not now, not now," I mumbled, annoyed. I was about 2/3rds of the way there, it couldn't break down now. The truck broke down, slow enough so I could pull off to the shoulder. I slammed my fist on the dashboard, thoughts jumping around my head too fast to give any thought at all. The only thing I could think of at that moment was to get out and run. I did just that. Smashing the door closed, I took off, weaving my way through scarce amounts of hitch-hikers and hobos, heading toward the hospital. The rain soaked my face, blending in with the frustrated tears that were pouring from my eyes. A gracious sign appeared in the distance, "Hospital: 1/4 mile" Adrenaline pumped through my tired body, letting me run faster until I finally reached my destination. I pushed through the doors, sprinting to the reception desk. Madylyn was waiting behind it, her face streaked with tears. I was frozen and wet from the depressing rain. She signaled for me to come with her, walking quickly back to the ICU, the place that I didn't want to go the most.

"What's going on?" I asked urgently, trying to catch my breath. Madylyn opened her mouth to speak, a choked squeak coming out in it's place. We reached a different room, more wires and tubes coming from Matt's lifeless body. His heart rate was sluggish and quiet, dwindling in him.

"He had another heart attack," She cried, burying her face in her hands, "His heart is basically useless right now. He's almost gone." The words sucked every bit of emotion out of me. They sucked every bit of hope I still had inside of myself. Everything went blank. My heart was completely broken in emotionless, tiny pieces. Breath was shallow and broken. Every little bit of sadness shoved up from my stomach up to my eyes, crying desperately. Shrieking, throaty sobs escaped me, useless and shaking. I was spiraling out of control, watching my best friend dying in front of me. I clung on to him, his life visibly slipping away. His grip was cold and sparkless, nothing of Matt left. I felt like it was my fault somehow, not coming to the hospital to visit him out of the ICU longer. My whole body was trembling and frozen, nothing around me mattering.

"Matt, Matt, please," I choked stupidly, my tears coming recklessly. I clung on to his life by my fingertips, hanging on to the Matt I knew. I had no control of myself, no self-respect at all. Madylyn sobbed across from me, mimicking my position. Matt's humming replayed in my head. The heart monitor seemed to decline further and further, causing my breath to come faster and shallower. Every memory of us repeated in my head, just like last time. I imagined his heart now, mangled and weak, barely clinging on to life. Matt's gruff hand was completely motionless, not responding to any touch.

"Matt, please, hang on," I breathed, weeping into my hands. The heart monitor slowed further, coming to a complete, shrieking, broken, tearful stop. A steady line. No beeps. Just one line.

"MATT! PLEASE! HANG ON!" A shrill, shameless, desperate scream pierced the air. My own.

**i kind of hate myself for this chapter haha i wanted to make it longer, but the end fit. love you, loyal little kitties!**


	11. Dead

**urghh...love you guys :)**

Chapter 11: Dea-...

Blood ran through my fingers from digging my dull nails into my skin. Bright red liquid dripped from my restless hands. One squat, gruff-voiced male nurse and a tall, muscular woman nurse grasped tightly on to my arms, preventing me from running back into Matt's room. I remember them pulling me out, literally dragging me out of Matt's tiny room. I was screaming the whole time, trying to resist their grips. The deep, bellowing yells still staggered through the ICU, supplied by my desperate face. I was sobbing uncontrollably, spiraling out of existence. Doctors shuffled around Matt's tiny room, prodding him with more machines and shocking him with large paddles. After about 15 minutes of this repetitive sequence, Doctor Grace ran his frustrated hands through his hair, labeling Matt...dea-. The word wouldn't come to my mind. It was a nasty, ungrateful word that didn't care about anyone. It didn't care about what you had going, how amazing your life was, your best friends. It could care less. Dead. I hated the word, detested it. I banished it to the blackest parts of my mind, never to be thought about. Stowing it away under lock and key, I never wanted to hear it, see it, taste it, smell it or touch it, which is what I was doing all of at the moment. Broken, shattering tears shot down my face, lonely and reckless.

"I'm sorry, Mike. He's gone," Doctor Grace said tearfully. His face was emotionless, blank and straight. It was short and bitter, cringing on the words. He gritted his teeth, gave me a quick, meaningless hug, and walked away from me, leaving me crumpled on the ground. I dropped on my knees, sobbing in my hands. The slam made a few of the doctor's heads whip around and stare at me, the pitying glances burning into my face. The 2 nurses stood as they were, reluctantly letting me go. I peered over my hands, blinded by tears and blood, at my best friend, lying dead in front of me. No life remained in him. He was colorless and paralyzed, hideously shattered. The ICU was drained of hope, the ugliest place I had ever been. I approached the grotesque room, the nurses still trying to restrain me from moving. Smacking the nurse's hands away, I entered the room. The feeling of loss kicked me in the stomach, shoving all of my breath out of my windpipe. This body in front of me wasn't Matt anymore. It was a shell that looked like Matt, but void of color. I touched the body's hand, but immediately retreated it, frightened by the icy feel. This hand was frozen and unfamiliar, nothing I'd ever felt before. I sealed my eyes closed, fingertips driving into my palms, salty, weak tears spilling down my face.

"I am going to miss you, Matt," I choked out, barely loud enough for me to hear. The words dissolved in the heavy, moist air, never to be heard again. For a split second, I could swear I felt something touch my face, the familiar spark caressing my cheek. As quickly as it came, it went. Matt's soul, his fire, attempting to escape. I just knew it. My stomach twisted uncomfortably, making me feel like throwing up. The top of my throat ached as I fell to the ground once more. My sore knees protested, giving out under me. Weight shifting to my folded feet, I set my hands down on the frigid, dingy, white marble. Madylyn's warm hands wrapped around my arm, aiding me out of the ICU. Venomous tears of rage streamed down my face as I was led out of the hospital.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Madylyn asked, her words broken up and weighed down. I nodded my head limply, heading out into the parking lot. My teeth were glued together, unable to speak. My face contorted painfully as I walked, sloshing through the melting snow. Madylyn treaded next to me, staring ahead at the sun, blazing icily, leaving a orange-yellow glimmer around us. We entered the car silently, other than the raw, muffled sounds of our weeping. As Madylyn drove, I leaned back in the seat, decoding what I felt inside. My heart felt incomplete, lost and confused. The outside of my body throbbed, missing a big, meaningful part of it. Heavy thoughts pressed against my skull, making my head pound. I didn't know what to feel. No emotions marked me. I just felt blank. I would go from crying out in anguish, to tiny, squeaking sobs. The tears never stopped burning my cheeks. The salty liquid absorbed into my dirty, grey shirt, leaving large, wet spots. I would occasionally whisper directions to my house, mingling with the two-ton air. Madylyn pulled up to my house wordlessly, giving me a quick, apologetic hug. She flipped her deep red hair out of the way and waved a wobbly hand to me. I stepped out of the car and she pulled away, leaving me alone again. My feet wouldn't move from the spot I stood, forcing me to sit down in the driveway. I sat with my knees pulled up to my face, bawling uncontrollably. The world seemed to encase me and wouldn't allow me to move. Memories stabbed me in the heart, stained with pain.

"Don't worry about me, dude. I'll be fine, just remember you mean a lot to me, man. I don't know if this heart attack turned me soft or something, but I do love you, just remember that," Matt's last words to me replayed in my head again, forcing fresh tears on to the rigid pavement. I bit hard on my lip, sending blood gushing through my teeth. Shivering against the unforgiving wind, I clutched harder on to my knees, as if I was holding myself together with my arms. A black hole was forming over my chest, sucking in everything I had going for me. My blubbering was interrupted by the crunching of gravel under heavy wheels. I buried my head further in my knees, hiding from the source. I was embarrassed of myself, crumbling to the ground. Rapid clicks ran toward me.

"Mike, what are you doing? Are you sick?" Rachel wrapped her arms around me, trying to pull me up. I stared up at her, my face puffy and deep pink. Rachel's eyes darted around my face, searching for clues. Her eyebrows drew together, her mouth slightly open. Her lips glistened, shining against the bright atmosphere, "What happened?" Standing up, I slammed into Rachel's arms a bit too forcefully, sending her staggering backward.

"H-He's dea-" I stammered through crashing waves of pain. My head was buried in her neck, hair sprawled against my face. Rachel froze, paralyzed in her stance. She started breathing hard, her heart pounding hard. I felt each beat against my chest, deep and panicked.

"No," Rachel whispered, "No! NO! NO!" Her whispers gradually louder than the previous one, until she was yelling at the sky. Her arms fell to her sides as she pulled away from me. Rachel's hands found her face as she began to weep, squeaky and hoarse. Arms back at her sides, Rachel balled up her hands into tight fists, screaming at the bitter, winter air. I walked up to her, unballing her fists. Through a thick sheet of tears, I showed Rachel my palms, tiny burgundy scabs forming that matched my fingernails. We grabbed on to each other again, shaking and crying.

"I know," I murmured, stroking Rachel's damp hair.

"I can't believe he's really...gone," Rachel whispered back, breaking on the last word, "It's NOT FAIR!" She raised her voice on the last words. I'd never seen Rachel be so indignant before. I tried to hum to her, but no noise would come out. Angry, desperate sobs escaped us both as we stood there on the pavement, feet glued to the ground. Rachel's teeth started to chatter, making her cry harder. I helped her inside, resuming the same position on the warm couch. We stayed like this for an hour or two, until the shaking sobs became quiet, staggering breaths. I leaned back on the couch, empty inside. I fell asleep in that position, Rachel leaning against my chest.

I didn't go to school for the next few days. Rachel went back a day ahead of me, the loss not as hard on her. She asked repeatedly if she should stay, but I convinced her that I'd be okay if she went back. I still spent the majority of the days crying, sitting alone. The day I finally came back, I was hugged more than I ever have been hugged in my entire life. I didn't get why everyone was pitying me. I was going to finish high school. I was going to get married, have kids, be a grandpa, maybe even a great grandpa. I was going to have a job and hopefully be successful. Matt would never have those things. Pictures of Matt dotted the walls, complete with glittery displays, fake flowers and tiny sport cutouts. They were sweet, but kind of made me angry. Mock care, that's what I thought it was. Sure, there were plenty of people who really did care, but most people could care less. I probably was just being bitter and self-centered.

"How're you doing?" Rachel asked me at my locker, grabbing on to my hand sincerely. I kissed her gently, the first real kiss I'd given her since we were out on the pavement.

"I'm okay, what about you?" I inquired, hanging on to Rachel's fingers. A twinge of pain nipped at the edges of my heart, knowing that I wasn't entirely telling the truth. I still felt empty, like half of me was drained. I was going through the day in a daze until glee club. Puck, looking pretty beat up, sat down next to me, running his tired hands through his mohawk. Artie rolled himself to the head of the room, worn out, but seemed strong.

"Some of us have a song for you, Mike. We all know how hard this has been on you," Artie said, calm and supportive. Everyone flocked to Artie, standing in a planned out formation. Artie rolled over to his bass, starting a slow bass line, Finn joining in on the drums. The music wrapped around me, deep and sweet.

_ If the sky that we look upon_

_ Should tumble and fall_

_ And the mountain should crumble to the sea_

_ I won't cry, I won't cry_

_ No I won't shed a tear_

_ Just as long as you stand, stand by me _

By the time the song was over, I was crying silently, bittersweet tears spilling down my face. Puck had a few steely tears flowing freely as well, trying to hide them behind his iron mask. Everyone's eyes were misted over, wiping them gingerly. Rachel hugged me longingly.

"Come to my house after?" She whispered in my ear, sealing it with a tiny kiss. I nodded as she pulled away, her embrace replaced by Tina's. We all hugged and cried, wrapping up glee club afterward. Grabbing onto my hand, Rachel and I walked out of the school, entering the familiar car I had come to love.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Rachel asked when we entered her room, sitting on her bed. She faced me, laying her delicate fingers in my rough, scabby palms. She traced each cut, carefully staying in the lines.

"I'll be okay. That's really sweet what you guys did in glee club," I told her, flopping back on to the pillow. Rachel mimicked my movement, laying next to me. She kissed me gently, lighting the room on fire.

"It's all going to be okay. I love you, don't worry," Rachel hushed, resting her head on my chest.

"I love you, too," I told her, the words truthful and easy. My stomach fluttered around the edges, a mixture of sadness and love. The recognizable feel of anguished tears fell down my face once again, wiped away by Rachel's red fingertips.

"We'll all float on okay," Rachel whispered as we lay there, gradually falling asleep again.

_We'll all float on._

**_new chapter either tomorrow or tuesday... i'm not sure if how much homework i will have :O haha thanks :)_**


	12. Stay Awake

**whoa. hey, the people i missed hahaha!**

Chapter 12: Stay Awake

Everything was fuzzy, coated in a dark grey coating, like it was a really rainy day. I was sitting in Matt's house, a seat in the kitchen where we usually had studied for huge tests, ones where I would see Matt chewing nervously on his short fingernails. Matt wasn't in the dim room, but I knew he was in the house.

"Matt, where are you?" I called, spinning around on the swiveling stool. A warbled, choking sound came from Matt's bathroom, "Matt, come on, that's not funny," I stopped turning, sitting on the edge of the seat, "Matt, come on, dude," I got up from the chair. More choked, panting sounds came from down the hallway. Sprinting toward the noise, I reached the offending door. I yanked on the doorknob desperately, hearing Matt's cries from inside. The door was locked, trapping Matt inside.

"M-Mi-ke," Matt coughed, making me pull harder on the door. Finally kicking it down, I saw Matt lying on the floor, deep, red blood dripping from his open mouth. The thin substance was spreading down the floor, filling the tiny cracks in the white tile, "Y-ou did this." Matt finished, pointing up at me, his teeth stained with blood, still sputtering out of him. Breathless, I approached him, leaned down in the mess and tried to shake the life back into Matt's limp body.

"Matt! MATT!" I pierced the air with a shrill scream, the life leaving the room out of the cracked window. My vision blurred, everything falling away into the darkness...

I woke up with a start, pulling in a shallow, quick breath. I wiped the edgy beads of sweat off of my forehead with a tired hand, shivering off the nightmare. I leaned forward on the bed, rubbing my misty eyes with my clammy palms. A tearful wave built up inside of my chest, working it's way up to my throat. I burst into spontaneous sobs, quivering on the bed. I clutched on to my knees again, attempting to hold everything inside. Deep, breathy groans escaped me, no matter how hard I tried to be quiet. I bit my lip, trying to keep the noise down.

"Mike?" Rachel asked sleepily, staring at me with wide eyes. I breathed a shaky breath, trying to get myself under control. Rachel was frozen in her place, attempting not to make anything worse. She wrapped her hands around her knees, frozen in her place.

"I'm okay," I breathed, my moist breath washing over my dry lips. The dream replayed in my head, tears pushing against my eyes, forcing themselves out. They were silent, dissolving into Rachel's pink bedspread. I stared blankly at my cast, reading Matt's signature over and over.

"It'll be okay," Rachel's voice appeared behind my head, her slow whisper soothing my clouded mind. Her hand was drawing gentle circles on my slumped back, tracing my spine, "Just breathe." I shivered in her grip. I felt her warm lips press to my neck, trying to calm me down. My breath came easier and quieter, my heart easing itself from it's rapid beat. Relaxing my shoulders, Rachel shifted herself in front of me, wiping the stray tears from my face with her thumb. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against mine. I could taste her sweet breath blowing lazily in my face, "Just breathe."

"Okay," I replied, my lips lingering with hers, healing my empty heart for the moment. Rachel intertwined her soft fingers in between mine, warming up my frozen hands. I drew in a recovering breath. I was afraid to shake the delicate moment. Suddenly, my stomach ripped through the silence, growling into the dry air. Rachel burst into giggles.

"I'll go get you something to eat, okay?" Rachel smiled at me, flitting out of the room. She left me cross-legged in the darkness, staring around the room. I studied the random articles of clothing splayed on the floor, some belonging to me. I noticed a pink guitar that sit in the corner of the room, even though Rachel didn't play the guitar. Maybe, she did. I didn't know. I walked over and picked it up, my hands fitting in the groves that were etched into the neck. My fingers found the strings, playing a slow, relaxed tune.

_Cradle me, I'll cradle you._

_ I'll win your heart with a woop-a-woo_

_ Pulling shapes just for your eyes_

_ So, with toothpaste kisses and lines_

_ I'll be yours and you'll be mine._

I sang the gentle notes, walking lazily around Rachel's room. I stared at the walls, not even thinking about the song.

"It's beautiful," Rachel complimented on the last note. I whipped myself around, unaware of her presence. She danced over to me, laying a tiny kiss on my jaw line, "I love you." Rachel smiled up at me, holding a sandwich out in front of me.

"I love you, too," I replied, startled by the truth of my words. Rachel was everything to me, the Earth, the Moon and the stars. My stomach interrupted the moment again, destroying the loveliness. Rachel snorted and shoved the sandwich into my hand.

"Eat," She giggled, grabbing the guitar out of my other hand, copying my position. Rachel started to play, effortless and skillful. She winked at my surprised expression, biting her lip jokingly. Her voice joined in with the smiling notes.

_And all of the angels, they'd sell off your soul_

_ For a set of new wings and anything gold_

_ They remember the people they loved, their old friends_

_ And I've seen through them all, seen through them all_

_ And seen through most everything_

Rachel finished her song, a dramatic note cutting off the sound. She smiled brightly at me, setting the guitar back where it belonged.

"Betcha didn't know I could do that," Rachel giggled, kissing me on the cheek. The sandwich lay limply in my hand. I was too dumbfounded to eat during that. Rachel sat on the bed next to me, forcing me to eat the food. I ate as quickly as possible, getting back to playing guitar together.

"We should do a duet," Rachel suggested, "For glee club."

That's what we worked on, playing endlessly. Our fingers were sore and throbbing, red at the tips. I kissed each one of Rachel's fingers. She tried to kiss mine, too, working around my cast. I had to go home at some point with school the next day. Reluctantly, Rachel drove me home, preparing for the next days ahead.

Over the next few days, the pictures and displays for Matt came down, little by little. It pissed me off more than anything that everyone could just forget about him. Matt was my best friend and being without him made me feel like an empty shell. I felt cracked and broken, nothing inside of me. I loved Rachel, but she could never replace my best friend. People stopped dwelling on the fact that he was gone and everything went back to normal. I felt more alone, the only one noticing that Matt's old lunch seat was vacant, missing his little outbursts in Spanish class, noticing the empty locker across from mine. A strange spark surged through me every time I passed the old locker.

"You should empty it," Rachel suggested as we walked through the hall. I gave her a fake look of confusion, cocking my head sideways. My eyes avoided Rachel's honest ones, trying not to get caught, "Mike, I can see your eyes flicker whenever you pass his locker. You jolt forward like someone electrocuted you. Stop beating yourself up." Rachel grabbed my face, forcing me into deep eyes, knowing she meant it. I nodded, Rachel kissing me on the cheek in return. I set my hand on my cheek, trying to preserve the moment in my hand.

I approached Matt's locker, knowing his combination by heart. Matt would always forget his books in his locker and then proceed to make me go get them. I opened Matt's locker with a shaky hand, the uncomfortable squeak adding to my uncertainty. Matt's locker was always a mess, but this time, it was oddly clean. The tiny white board that sat on the locker door, usually covered in doodles of boobs or cars, had a messily written message scrawled on it.

_Hey, Mike! I cleaned my locker for you! _

The date written in the corner was a few weeks before the first heart attack. I tried to digest the words, resulting in me choking on my own air. 2 magazines were stacked neatly in the back, covered up by an unfinished homework assignment. His school books were sitting upright in front of his papers. In between the books, there was a tiny, folded up, piece of paper. "Never to be sent" was written on the front. I unfolded it, revealing a sloppy note. The letters were jumbled together like it was very difficult to write.

_Mike,_

_ We have been best friends for years and I would trust you with my life, so I don't know why it's so hard to tell you this. I was born with a heart defect that I used to take medicine for, but I don't have the money to pay for it on my own. The doctors say anything can happen at any time, well, the doctors I used to see. Now, this isn't a letter to ask you to pay for anything, I just want you to know that something bad could happen and I am really scared. I do a pretty good job of covering it up, but I don't know how much longer I can._

_ When I was little, I couldn't really exercise or anything because it was too tough to catch my breath. As I got older, things got easier, so the doctors think it isn't very severe now, but I am still scared. Things are much easier, I can play football without getting too winded, but dancing is pretty hard for me. That's why I was so reluctant to join glee club. I have always been jealous of your ability to dance so well, by the way. I am never going to give this to you, so I guess it really doesn't matter, but I just want you to know that I will always love you, no matter what happens. Wow, that sounded gay. Who cares? This is my own letter. I am just speaking my heart. I just need you to know that no matter what happens to me OR you, I'll always be with you._

_ ~Matt._

I was bawling by the time I was done with the letter. I couldn't believe how oblivious I was. Matt would always have to take breaks during football. I just thought he didn't want to play that much. I noticed how he didn't really dance, but I never thought much of it. Why didn't Dr. Grace tell me? I crumpled to the floor, gripping the letter in my sweaty hand. I dialed the number Dr. Grace used to call me with, putting the shaking phone to my ear.

"Hello?" He asked, certain and formal, "Mike Chang?" My number must have come up on the caller I.D. or something.

"Why didn't you tell me Matt had a heart defect?" I asked, sobs accenting my words. Silence.

"I thought you already knew. It seemed pretty touchy, so I didn't bring it up to you. All of the other nurses knew, though, so we did the best we could. I'm sorry, Mike. I have to go," Dr. Grace answered condescendingly, sounding irritated. I hung up the phone on him, sobbing desperately on the floor. I should have known. I could have helped, but I never knew. Why did Matt never tell me? I was crying crazily as I emptied the rest of Matt's things out, bringing the books back to his classes and shoving the rest of his stuff in my locker.

"Don't put anyone else in that locker," I told Principal Figgins solemnly, getting an unsure nod in return.

The next week was the toughest, emptiest I had ever been. It was a strange feeling to be completely empty, but not alone. I knew Matt was with me. Not how I wanted him to be, but he was here, and it was a comfort. Matt's parents gave him a funeral out of pity, not that they actually cared. I tried not to cry, knowing that Matt wouldn't want that, but it was too hard. You always see on T.V. the best friend never crying, but I don't know how. Every word is a punch in the stomach with spiked gloves on. Rachel went with me, never letting go of my hand. We both sobbed together, acting as one. After that week, Rachel and I practiced our duet again, perfecting it. I admit, I wasn't acting like myself, but I was living. I would occasionally feel a light hand on my shoulder and no one be near me. That's how Matt made himself known. I could almost feel his comforting smile. I was probably fooling myself, but I didn't care. He stayed with me when I was practicing, at school, anywhere. A tiny spark that only Matt could bring would radiate from the room, repairing my shattered heart, even if it was just for a little while.

A few days later, Rachel and I were ready to perform our duet. Rachel squirmed in her chair again, waiting for the music to flow. She would vary the pressure on my hand, anxious and ready. I would squeeze her hand back, trying to calm her down. She would relax in her chair for a few seconds, then resume her position. I finally raised my hand after getting a few glances of encouragement from Rachel's excited eyes.

"Mr. Schuester?" I asked, holding my hand up limply. Mr. Schue nodded at me and signaled to the center of the room. Rachel giggled. She must have talked to him in advance. We reached the front of the room, half-repaired. I felt like I was being held together by bubblegum and band-aids, but I was on my way to healing. Rachel and I picked up our guitars, receiving confused looks from our audience. Rachel smiled and started playing alone, creating gasps from the club. I joined in with her, our notes mingling together. Rachel and I added our voices to the gentle melody, following the tune.

_Stay awake_

_ Get a grip and get out_

_ You're safe_

_ From the weight of the world_

_ Just take_

_ A second to set things straight_

_ I'll be fine_

_ Even though I'm not always right_

_ I can count on the sun to shine_

I felt the familiar spark on my shoulder, making it hard to focus, but easier at the same time. Rachel grabbed my hand at the end of the song, sending tingles up my arm. That's when I realized I wasn't alone. That's when the bandages started to dissolve. That's when I started to repair. That's when I knew I had to stop worrying and I'd be okay. We'd all be okay.

"_Hakuna Matata, dude."_

**okay, so this is the end :'( hahaha i want to thank all of you guys! you made this very enjoyable hahaha here are all of the songs i used:**

**Speechless - Lady Gaga**

**The Colors of the Wind - Pocahontas**

**The Bird and The Worm - Owl City**

**You and Me - Dave Matthews**

**Kiss Me - Avril Lavigne**

**Stand By Me - Ben E. King**

**Float On - Modest Mouse**

**Toothpaste Kisses - The Maccabees**

**Bankrupt on Selling - Modest Mouse**

**Stay Awake - All Time Low**

**Hakuna Matata - The Lion King**

**i don't own anything except for my computer haha**

**so, thanks again my lovely turtles!**

**p.s. what would you like to read about in the future?**


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